


Ever Fallen in Love

by puffintalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Slow Burn, also barely, autistic norway, bc i realise not everyone else will just Know oops, bc nor and den are both such massive dumbasses, better to warn than not i guess, but barely, i have been told this is, maybe??? technically???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23575960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffintalia/pseuds/puffintalia
Summary: It's 1980-something and Matthias is back at university for another year, navigating through a life of parties and frustrating roommates and best friends who haven't talked to him for months for undisclosed reasons. As he tries to figure out exactly how he fucked up this time, he starts to realise more about himself and the people around him than he ever thought possible.Vaguely inspired by the Buzzcocks song of the same name.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway (Hetalia), Hong Kong/Iceland (Hetalia), Norway/Female Sweden (Hetalia)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Just a preface: this is not set in any particular year, but just a vague 80s vibe. Just a mush of vague events and songs and subcultures that really happened years apart but now are all at the same time for the sake of setting. Don't expect historical accuracy.  
> Also, I mentioned a Cantonese name for Hong Kong and though I did ask a friend for help and we (well, mostly Jade) did our best to come up with something good, neither of us are native speakers so if you're Cantonese and think it sounds off - or "kind of anime" - that's why. I hope it sounds like a good name though :)) (update: the name has been changed with the help of Actual Hong Kongers)

The banging on the door was  _ not _ necessary, but Eiríkur turned the music down anyway. It was late already. Huh. Today had gone quicker than it felt. Reluctant to move, he surveyed the pigsty of a floor around him. Boxes of clothes piled up around the bottom of the furniture, comics scattered in the gaps inbetween. He rolled off the bed, landing on Batman.  _ Ouch _ . Not a good idea when you’re wearing studs and safety pins. He made a mental note to fix the spikier parts. 

Speaking of spiky, Matthias was still pounding on the door. He sighed and dragged himself up to unlock it. “What d’you want?”

Mads stepped back as the door was thrown open. “Neighbours are complainin’ again,” he explained, though his exasperated tone suggested he thought that was a pile of bullshit. “Whatcha listening to?” He weaseled his way through the doorway, throwing himself down on Eiki’s bed. “Huh. Buzzcocks. Never heard of ‘em.”

“That’s because you’re old and boring.” Eiríkur glared, silently willing him away. This was  _ his _ space, he didn’t need any annoying flatmates coming in and fucking it up.

“Oi! I’m younger than your brother!” Still protesting, he threw the record sleeve back down. Matthias looked around the room as if he was trying to memorise every detail of Eiki’s obscure band posters.

“Not by long,” Eiki pointed out. “And he’s ancient anyway.”  _ Can I have my room back now? No? _

“That’s rude.” Mads pouted.  _ Oh, shit, yeah, he’s actually friends with Lukas.  _ Eiki cursed his luck. Of course, he had to live with his brother's best friend instead of any of his own. If only Mads had lived, like, a mile further from campus, somewhere less convenient. And had a more expensive rent. But he’d promised his mum he’d try to be nicer to his brother, so here he was.

He just stuck his tongue out, waiting for Mads to leave. Maybe if he stayed quiet long enough -

Mads, instead, held the record up. “Kinda liked this. Can I borrow it?” He began rifling through the precious record collection, pulling out whatever intrigued him, with no regard for how  _ that was not his, thank you very much, please do not- _

“Get off my stuff!” Eiríkur shot up, blocking his hands just as Mads got to the more embarrassing part of his music taste. Glaring at him, he stuffed the other records back in the stand. “Fucking… fine, take it. But leave my stuff alone, what the fuck.”

“Sure, whatever.” Mads frowned, tucking the record under his arm. He stared out into the living room, as if trying to remind himself of something important. “Oh, yeah, your friend came round. He’s waiting at the door. Go have fun! Steal a bike! Whatever it is you teens do now!” 

_ Why the fuck didn’t he start with that? _ As Mads sauntered back out, Eiki pouted to himself. He stuffed his wallet in his backpack, resigning himself to not getting to show off his new record, and swung it over his shoulder. Best not to keep Leon waiting. At least any more than Mads already had. God, this was embarrassing.

\---

Ka Lung “Leon” Wong was an interesting person, and most definitely the kind his brother Lukas would have described as a “bad influence”. Which was ironic, because Lukas was probably a worse influence himself. But whatever. Eiki tried not to think about his brother more than he had to. Since they met in first-year scriptwriting class, Leon had introduced him to tons of Cool New Stuff: bands, movies, food… You name it, Leon had an awesome suggestion he’d never heard of before. Over the last year, Eiríkur found himself hanging out with him more and more. It helped that they both liked the same stuff, even if Leon was infinitely cooler than he'd ever be. So cool, Eiki couldn’t believe Leon had ever wanted to talk to him, let alone him  _ alone _ . At first, his admiration for him had led him into a number of crazy and mildly uncomfortable situations, which Leon had since tried to apologise for repeatedly. Eiki shut him down every time because Leon didn’t need to apologise for Eiki being less amazing than him.

But today they’d found an idea Eiríkur could keep up with. It’d taken some convincing to get him to check out the new club downtown - because new people were scary and he’d heard weird rumours - but with the offer of drinks on Leon and a live band, he’d been eventually swayed. To be honest, he had no clue where they were going, but Leon had promised it'd be more his speed, so he chose not to question it too much. This was Leon, anyway. He was always cool.

The sun had just about set when they arrived in the back alley and the dim streetlights did little to illuminate the dark entranceway. Leon pushed him through the door, grinning. The pounding beat immediately hit him, disorientating sounds and lights surrounded them both as Eiríkur clung tight to Leon’s hand. Men and women danced in groups, all dressed in dramatic, dark outfits, not so different from what his brother was wearing nowadays.  _ Huh _ . Maybe Lukas was cooler than he thought. But not as cool as Leon. Fighting his way through the crowd, he headed over to the bar, ordering drinks for both him and Leon. The sudden heat of the club clashed violently with the outside chill - a bold contrast he could’ve sworn was just part of the whole appeal of the place. In the chaos, he didn’t even notice Leon’s hand slip from his. Everywhere he looked, there was another strange new fashion, disappearing and reappearing in the writhing crowd. They danced like nothing he’d seen before: each movement more inhuman that the last. As he picked up his drink, the bartender raised a pierced eyebrow. Eiríkur squinted, his eyes still not accustomed to the darkness and the flashing colours, searching for Leon in the mass of sweaty bodies. 

A voice suddenly appeared from over his shoulder. “How do you like this?”

Eiríkur turned, almost dropping the glasses. Leon grinned up at him, his platform boots still only making him a few centimetres shorter than Eiki. “How the fuck d’you even  _ find _ these places?” He could barely hear himself talk over the pounding beat, the rhythm crashing through his head until it was the only thing he could focus on. Leon’s smile was captivating still, as the music pulsed on and on and on and on… Eiríkur started to feel light-headed, whirled away by the thriving atmosphere of the place, but it… felt good. He belonged here.

“That’s my secret! If I told you, you wouldn’t need me anymore.” Leon winked, throwing himself into Eiríkur’s arms as he took his drink. “Come on, dance with me!” 

For once, he didn’t see why not.

The dancefloor was just as dark as the rest of the club, lit by nothing but a few colourful beams. Clashing green and pink spotlights highlighted older architecture, casting crooked, hypnotic shadows across the walls. He waved to a girl he knew from his German class, sat hand in hand with a girl in -  _ was that a cape? _ \- as she lounged on the velvet seats. The floor stuck to Eiríkur’s feet as he walked and he couldn’t tell if it was cheap linoleum or just all the spilt drinks, but he didn’t really care. Far above him, a fake chandelier swayed in a faint draught, casting a dim light into the cavern below. 

Eiríkur let Leon lead him by the hand, still marvelling at the kaleidoscope of neon mohawks and cheaply dyed widow’s peaks. For once, he felt like he was anonymous - he no longer stuck out like a sore thumb, but merged right in. It was exhilarating to finally let it all go, to hold Leon in his arms and just do  _ whatever _ as he assured him, _ hey, it’s alright, they’re all cool with us here _ . He smiled, following the crowd as they twisted and writhed to the music - you could barely call it dancing. By the time he felt Leon’s lips crash against his, he’d already forgotten to tell him what he owed for the drinks.

\---

Mads laid on the sofa, his feet swung over the arm. Every time he drifted off, the sound of sirens and car horns on the street below jolted him awake again.  _ Rude.  _ He checked the clock - still only half past eight. The flat was empty. No friends, no family, not even the annoying teen flatmate he was sure would grow on him.  _ Boring.  _

He sighed, watching the static as the TV jumped channels.  _ Game show, game show - oh, a talk show! What a surprise. _ He let the remote slip out of his hand.  _ Honk honk _ . The traffic jam outside startled a pigeon, who flew up and landed on his windowsill. 

Maybe he could call a friend? Company'd be nice. Wow, the new term hadn't even started yet and he was lonely already. That had to be a personal best. Mattie had the first shift of a new job, Al had transferred to a college in the States, Jan's flight didn't come in for a few days yet and Lukas… had barely spoken to him all summer since he’d got together with his new girlfriend. Hey, at least he could try to fix that. 

The phone rang for a minute or so before the answerphone kicked in.  _ Hi, you’ve reached-.  _ Mads sighed, waiting for the  _ beep _ . "Hey, Lu, it's me! Mads! Just wanted to see if ya wanted to hang out sometime! 'S cool if you're busy though. Call me back! Bye!" 

Not too unexpected, really. Eiríkur had mentioned Astrid - his old childhood friend, Lukas' new girlfriend - had been due to arrive back in town today. That was fair, he decided. Lukas probably wanted to see her first. But he did wonder why Lukas hadn't made any effort to contact him in the last two weeks since they'd got back to the city, when Astrid wasn’t there. Especially since Lukas' beloved  _ lillebror _ now lived with him. 

The phone rang ten minutes later and Matthias ran to it, hoping to hear his best friends voice down the line. All he was met with was a depressed-sounding telemarketer, taken aback by his enthusiastic tone. He hung up. Maybe he'd go to the bar, then - he'd find some company there, at least, even if he went alone. Sighing, he tugged his coat off the hook, locking the door behind him as he made his way out, alone, into the cold September night.


	2. Chapter 2

Matthias sat in the window of the coffee shop, stirring his milkshake as he zoned out. Eiríkur was still chattering away to him, but he didn’t have a clue what the kid was saying.  _ Blah blah blah, nightclub, blah blah, home late, blah blah blah, whatever _ . Across the square, Lukas was walking hand-in-hand with Astrid, his soft blond hair almost glowing in the sunlight. Mads crinkled his nose as Lukas took her hand in his. He waved, but Lukas didn’t see. Too busy making out with Astrid to notice. As usual.  _ God, save it for the bedroom. _

Cheering from a young man sat on a nearby table pulled him out of his sulk, and he looked up at the TV screen to see Nadia Comaneci flip her way across the Olympic beam. The man - reddish hair, a mischievous smile, looked like he could be a friend of Lukas’ - made some comment along the lines of missing his home country. A brief moment of Olympic pride as his friends hollered and chanted with him. Matthias smiled, but he couldn’t relate. Denmark wasn’t exactly renowned for its gymnasts. He cheered anyway, letting the man’s excitement pull him along. The girl’s skill was impressive, even for an Olympian. He knew Eiki was into that kinda thing; it was the whole reason he’d dragged Matthias to the café after their own TV had broken.

The moment was fleeting. As the cheering died down, he felt his gaze being pulled back over to where Lukas now sat with Astrid. She leant her head on his shoulder, Lukas tucking her hair out of her face just like he did when they were all kids. Suddenly Matthias was thrown back to a memory of a summer evening, just Lukas and him, in the back of his parents’ car. 

_ The Beatles’ tinny voices filtered out through the old radio, the air dusty and soft, everything so gentle and happy - one of those warm afternoons that feel like they could carry on for eternity. Lukas laid his head on Matthias’ shoulder, his fringe falling in front of his eyes. Matthias brushed it behind his ear and, in the innocent way only a child could pass off, asked him, “Do you love me?” _

_ Lukas looked up at him, eyes wide. “Of course I do, Mads. You’re my best friend.” _

Mads smiled softly, looking out over the square. Back in those days, Lukas had still wanted to speak to him, had held him closer than anyone else. Well, Lukas had always gotten on better with Astrid than he had. Maybe now they were older, she just had something he didn’t. Could he blame Lukas, really, for choosing her over him? In his memories, summer evenings stretched into long summer nights, spent at Lukas’ grandparents’ place in Tromsø where the sun slept as little as they did. Secrets were shared under the midnight rays, giggles and laughs and happy little memories. Had Lukas ever taken Astrid there? Ever shared the same stories, the same secrets? Or did they have another place, a place of their own, their own secrets and sunshine, a place and a part of Lukas where Matthias would never belong?

He was startled back to reality -  _ again, godammit  _ \- by Eiríkur waving his hand in front of his face. The teen grunted. “Event’s over. We can go now.” 

Eiki had already finished his drink and was occupying himself by pinning and unpinning the obscure band logos on his denim vest over and over again. Some Matthias recognised: The Ramones, for example, were a favourite of Lukas’. Others were more concerning - what sort of name was  _ Suicidal Tendencies? _ He brushed it off as “weird teenager shit”.

“Gimme a minute! Haven’t finished this yet!” Matthias lifted the milkshake glass off the table and chugged what was left - a task complicated by the fact that the glass was the size of his head. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he stood up, shooting one final glare toward the happy couple by the fountain.

Eiríkur seemed to read his mind - or, you know, follow his incredibly obvious line of sight. “Mads, seriously.” The teen stuck his hands in his pockets. “What’s your fucking obsession with them? Just let him live, what the fuck. You seriously so needy you won’t let your friends have other relationships? Or are you into her too?”

Matthias winced. Look, he was all for friends having other friends. That was cool. Awesome. 100% the more the merrier. And romance! Great! Go love whoever, it’s great to see you happy. But… he'd like to talk to his friend at least, right? Not have them… stolen from him. And it kinda hurt to see Lukas so in love and ignoring him… 

Ah, it was nothing. He mentally kicked himself. It wasn't up to him what Lukas did with his life and it wasn’t like Astrid was  _ deliberately _ keeping him away. He hoped. 

“Bold words from a man in eyeliner,” he retorted, regretting his lame last-minute cover up. Eiríkur stuck his middle finger up.

“Yeah, well at least it’s better than whatever the fuck is going on with your hair.”

“Fuck off, I  _ like _ my hair. It’s my best feature.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” 

Pulling a rude hand sign at Eiki, Matthias slammed a $5 on the bar and they left. As they walked across the square, he waved at Lukas, who actually looked up from Astrid and noticed him for once. Lukas raised his hand in a half-hearted return and barely glanced at him as he approached.

“Hey, lillebror.” Lukas nodded at Eiríkur. He sighed. “Hey, Mads.”

_ Hey, what the fuck was that for? _

Eiríkur blew a gum bubble  _ (where the hell did that gum come from?) _ , raising an eyebrow. “You know, you don’t sound like a real person when you say that. Like you’re a sibling character written by an only child or somethin’.”

“And you sound like a stereotype of a teenager, your point is?” He brushed his hair out of his eyes as Astrid appeared next to him. 

"Hey, Mads," she said. "Hey, Eiki. How's it going?" 

Mads echoed Lukas’ sigh. His eyes traced the path of a butterfly as it flitted between flowers outside the café. Maybe he understood Lukas’ reaction to him. Was this how he felt?  _ Why? _ He didn’t wanna meet Astrid’s eyes, jealousy rising in his chest.

Astrid repeated herself, sounding confused.  _ Hah! _ Maybe if she wasn’t stealing his Lukas away…  _ No, Mads, that’s spiteful. _ She hadn’t done anything on purpose. She was being… nice.

Eiríkur muttered something about the weather that Mads didn't quite catch. He offered a vague response to her question. Eiki looked back and forth between the three of them, catching on to the silent conflict, though he raised an eyebrow quizzically. Lukas still wouldn't look at him, tugging on Astrid's shirt as if desperate to get away. "Come on, we've gotta get to the…" 

“The…” Astrid frowned, as if she was trying to figure out what Lukas was thinking. “Oh… yes, okay.” The excuse was pathetic, but the conversation was too strained for any of them to want to call it out. She said goodbye, Lukas still refusing to say a word to Mads, though he offered a curt “bye, then” to his brother. Eiríkur waved a hand. As they turned, Mads grabbed Lukas by the shoulder.

“Lukas..." He looked down at his friend's - his old friend’s - confused face. "Why are you avoiding me?" 

Lukas turned away, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m… It’s fine, Mads. You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.” He brushed Matthias'’ hand off, beckoning Astrid after him. With a sharp huff and a pathetic wave, he dragged Astrid down the alleyway. All Mads could do was stare after him, wondering what he'd done wrong. 

\---

Lukas frowned, his head in his hands. Had he really messed up that bad? He brushed his hair from his eyes. He'd always been bad at emotions, but he hadn't expected Mads to be that bothered. He just… He couldn't face him right now. 

He looked across the room at Astrid, who smiled and walked toward him. Something in her smile reminded him of Mads and he turned away, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him? He knew he was in love with her. He had to be. She was the girl that had always been there for him, ever since they were kids. She’d wiped the blood off his scraped knees in the playground, wiped the tears from his eyes when his parents divorced, been there to hold him even as his own little brother blamed him for everything, and he knew he’d do the same for her. He cared for her more than anyone - any other girl - in the world. He had to be in love with her.

But everything that could be said for Astrid could be said moreso for Matthias, kind, gentle, soft Matthias, who let Lukas see under his jock-ish facade, who’d shared everything with him, who’d cared so much and so hard since the moment they met. And he wasn’t in love with him - he couldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. It wasn’t fair to Astrid, to what was left of his grieving family… He’d seen how they’d reacted when his mother said she valued her independence more than their traditions. Seen how Eiki, who was too young to know any better, had blamed it all on him and how even now he wouldn’t let Lukas close. Seen how they were barely holding it together as it was. If they knew he loved another man, it’d tear them apart. It wasn’t fair to Matthias, his Matthias, who’d probably be disgusted to hear Lukas’ feelings for him. He couldn’t be in love with Matthias. He couldn’t  _ lose _ him. 

But everytime he went near him, his heart beat so hard it felt as if it would fly out of his chest and the words would spring to his lips so quickly he only just caught himself every time.  _ I love you. _

_ No, _ Lukas decided. It was better for everyone if he stayed away. It hurt - oh God, it hurt so bad. Every time he let the phone ring off, every time his name was called and ignored, every time he let a door shut on a waving hand snatched the air from his lungs, left him empty and unable to breath from the pain. But it was for the best. It had to be.

Astrid stroked the back of his head as he wiped his tear-stained eyes. She had no clue. And God, he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t let her down like that.

"Hey, it'll be fine. Whatever happened between you and Mads, you can sort it out. You always have done." Her voice was soft and gentle, and Lukas only sobbed harder as Astrid held him in her arms. She didn’t deserve him. She deserved - she needed someone who could love her back in the same way she loved them. Someone who wasn’t… wasn’t  _ broken _ like him. He whimpered into her shoulder, wincing as she dried his eyes. 

“Shhh,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. Her hand cupped his cheek. “Shhh, älskling. It’ll be alright.”

\---

Mads sighed, curled up on the sofa. "Is it Astrid? Is it because he’s got a girlfriend now? Am I not good enough for him to hang out with anymore? Not cool enough?" He sat up, wrapping his arm around the cushion. "Didn't think he'd be the kind to ditch his friends the second he got a girl. But every time I try ask him to hang out, he… pulls whatever that was. Eiki, I miss him. Yeah, Jan and that’ll be around soon, but it’s not that same. It’s not… Lukas." 

"Ignore him," Eiríkur advised, not looking up from his spot on the rug. 

Matthias sighed again. Of course, he shouldn’t’ve expected anything different from the kid, especially considering his rocky past with his brother. Maybe he had a point, but it hurt. He’d always held Lukas so close to his heart, shared everything with him…

"That's what I always do,” Eiki continued. “Only he knows what the problem is. He's not saying, so he's gotta sort it himself." 

Since the moment they’d met, Mads’d felt drawn to him. Shy, stubborn, sweet Lukas. Mads had always thought he cared back. Just had a weird way of showing it. But every time he heard the mechanical voice of the answerphone, every time his hellos fell on blocked, deaf ears, every time a door slammed in his face, he began to doubt it more and more. Maybe Lukas had never cared for him, not really. Maybe it was just an act, he’d just been tolerating him, trying not to hurt his feelings. Maybe when he got together with Astrid, he’d realised she felt the same. That it was their chance to get rid of him, finally. He thought back to all the happy memories, those summers in Tromsø. Was it all false? Was every word of those secrets a lie, every story, every rare, beautiful smile a facade, an elaborate performance? Did Lukas ever really care for him the way he’d cared for Lukas, strong, never hesitating, as fierce as the bright light of the midnight sun? 

Mads frowned and walked to the window, leaning on the sill as he lit a cigarette. He didn't really believe it, but he couldn't think of anything else. Eiríkur stared up at him now, watching the tears stream down his freckled cheeks. "Yeah, sure. He'll come around.” He nodded, more to reassure himself than anything else. “Hey, Eiki? Maybe you could drop in on him later? You're his brother and that… He'd be glad to see you. He… He cares a lot about you.”  _ More than he does about me, at least. _ “Could ask him what's up. He might speak to you."

Eiríkur snorted, pulling a face. "I'd rather throw myself off the roof." 

\---

Mads went to the bar again that night, saying something about Matthew and Jan and the airport and "won't get back til late". Eiríkur saw him out the door, frowning. Feelings about his brother and all his dumb friends aside, something definitely felt off: he wasn't sure if he should be letting Mads go out when he was so depressed. As Mads shuffled off down the hall, he debated running after him and stopping him, telling him that everything would be okay. No, it wasn’t his place. They’d sort it out. And he didn’t need to get wrapped up in their stupid business.

Eiríkur’s frown didn't last long, as Mads' worried expression was quickly replaced by Leon's smirking face at the door. 

"Roommate gone out?" he asked as he invited himself in, throwing himself down on Mads' favourite cushion. He kicked his shoes off, flinging legs over the arm of the sofa. 

Eiríkur grinned. "Surprised you didn't pass him on the way." He joined Leon, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Finally got that Buzzcocks record. Think Mads nicked it though." 

Leon laughed, a clear, beautiful laugh that Eiki could’ve - and had - written poems about. "Of course he has. He's jealous."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lukas is a Nerd and no ones a reliable narrator

Mads woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and the faint smell of bacon. He stumbled, zombielike, into the kitchen to see Eiríkur stood at the sink, washing two plates. He rubbed his eyes. Wow, hangovers had never made him see double before. But as much as he rubbed his eyes, nothing changed.  _ Huh. Two. _

Looking up as he stepped into the kitchen, Eiríkur pointed a thumb at a third plate, left on the kitchen counter. "There's bacon in the microwave, help yourself."

Nodding, Mads yawned and started to assemble a bacon sandwich. He eyed the extra plate, now on the drying rack. "You have a girl over?" 

"Something like that." Brushing the question off, Eiríkur joined him at the table. He eyed his messy ketchup creation with a face that implied there was a special circle in hell for people that did  _ that _ to their food. "Astrid called earlier. She's holding a back-to-school party next Saturday at her place. She wants to know if you can take anything." 

Mads nodded, covering his mouth so Eiki couldn't see his food as he spoke. "I'll call her back. Can probably find a few packs of beer." He debated ignoring it, but maybe this was the chance he needed to fix whatever it was with Lukas. Honestly, being invited in the first place was surprising. Might as well make the best of it. 

Eiki seemed to share his sentiment, grimacing awkwardly at him. “God, he’s a prick, isn’t he? But it’s… okay. Gotta… fix things. I guess.” He gritted his teeth, mumbling something to himself.

_ At least you know what happened between you. _ "Anything else?" The bacon sandwich was not as fun in reality as it felt when he made it. Why did he think ketchup on the outside was a good idea? 

Eiki nodded, his voice monotone. Matthias couldn’t tell if he was tired or just annoyed with his brother. "Jan called, said his flight was delayed, but he got in about half two last ni- this morning. Asked how you're doing." 

"Oh, cool!" Mads perked up a bit. Finally, a friend who acknowledged his existence. "I'll drop by his place later, then. You wanna come?" 

Eiríkur grimaced. "Hell no." Getting up, he hesitated at the doorway. “I’ll - I’ll, uh, be in my room doing my assigned reading. If you need to talk.”

\---

"'Nother beer?" Matthew asked, hovering in front of the fridge. 

Jan nodded, but Mads paused. It was getting late... and his class tomorrow morning was scheduled for 8am. He didn’t wanna wake up with a hangover two nights in a row. "Nah, I'm good. Gotta get up early." 

Mattie shrugged, pulling two cans out. "Suit yourself." He opened one with a satisfying fizz! and passed the other to his flatmate.

Jan took the can, leaning his chair back until his head touched the wall. "Since when've you fucking cared about that? Has your little roommate made you more responsible?” Was he teasing or not? It was always so hard to tell with him. “I didn't realise you'd go into boring dad mode  _ that _ quick." 

Mads laughed. "Nah, 's just… Gotta make a good first impression, you know. New professor." 

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." 

Mattie slid into the chair between them, swinging his legs over the arm. “Eh, I forgot you had a new flatmate.” Unlike Jan, Matthew sounded genuinely intrigued. "How's he doing anyway?" 

Still muttering, Jan shook his head. "Can't believe you let Bondevik dump his kid brother on you." 

Mads ignored him. As annoying as he was, he was proud that Lukas had trusted him with his brother. Even if he apparently wouldn’t trust Mads with himself. "He's okay. Very… teenager. Think he's got a girlfriend now. You know, the usual. Won't tell me anything though, ‘cuz he’s no fun." He kicked his feet up on the table, earning him a glare from Jan. 

"Fuck off, I just cleaned that." 

Matthew smiled, joining Mads in the Ignore Jan Club. "So he's like his brother?"

Mads considered it. Jan’s annoyed humphs in the background made him grin, shifting his feet further onto the table out of spite. "Yeah, I guess." Was that how other people saw Lukas? It made sense… He’d never realised how secretive Lukas must seem to others. He’d been lucky.  _ And now you’ve lost it _ . Sighing, he tried to push the thoughts of him aside, but it was… difficult. He lit a cigarette. "But smaller, angrier and less fun." 

"Angrier than Bondevik?" Jan raised an eyebrow. "That's fucking possible?"

Laughing, Matthew echoed him, wriggling so far back in his chair the back of his head almost touched Mads’ lap. "Fuck fucking fuck fuck. Someone has a favourite word."

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mads joined in, relieved they’d changed the subject. Huh, Jan  _ did _ swear a lot. Yeah, they made everything sound like an argument, but it felt so good to finally be with friends after a long summer alone, able to share a laugh and a beer and forget about life’s worries for a couple of hours. And to harmlessly insult each other over and over. 

As if to prove his point, Jan stuck his middle finger up at them. "Oi, Mads, pass the lighter."

Mads didn't respond, still staring around the cramped kitchen in dazed delight. “Oi, Matthias! Køhler!” 

Mattie piped up, “Hey, dumbass!” 

"Huh? Oh, sure, yeah." Mads snapped out of his trance and threw the lighter across the table. He gave Jan the middle finger. Who fucking knew why he responded to that? He tried to remember his previous train of thought. "Speaking of Bondevik, you heard from him lately?" 

Mattie shook his head, frowning. “I thought you’d hear before us.”

“What sort of fucking question is that, anyway?” Jan lit his cigarette, grunting. "I only fucking got here this morning, when would you expect me to have called him?" 

"Okay, okay, okay!" Mads threw up his hands in surrender. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Jan cracked open another beer and threw Mads’ lighter back, and they faded into an awkward silence, quickly broken by the beep of the oven timer. 

Mads raised an eyebrow as the smell of gingerbread started to overpower the cigarette stench. Jan got up, pulling tray after tray from the oven.

"Fucking hell, no way did you have time to hear from Lukas, but sure, you had the time to make enough biscuits to feed a small army." He’d promised not to make fun of Jan for his baking, but God, it was  _ difficult _ when he just seemed to materialise cakes and brownies whenever he felt like it. It was like watching an entire charity bake sale appear in a man’s house at random moments.

Jan grunted, wiping down the countertop before he moved the gingerbread onto a cooling rack. And then wiping it down again. Oh yeah, Mads had forgotten just how particular Jan was about his precious kitchen. Laughing to himself, he gave in, cracked open another beer and got immediately yelled at for even suggesting that maybe he could decorate some of them.

_ “Matthias Køhler, you are not coming into my house and making penis cookies!” _

\---

By the time Mads got home, the last rays of sunlight were slowly dipping below the horizon. He turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open with an aching  _ creeaakkkk _ .

In the living room, Eiríkur was sprawled on the sofa, his white-blond hair glowing orange in the dying light. The TV was on, gently babbling some obscure sci-fi nonsense. Eiki raised his hand in a half-heartedly wave, not bothering to rip his eyes from the screen. 

Mads waved back, yawning. He hung his coat up on the hook and turned to-  _ oh. Oh, ok _ .  _ Huh.  _ Now his coat was on the floor. He tried again. Nope. Still on the floor. Confused, he finally turned to look at the coat hook.  _ Huh. That’s new. _

There was a new, shiny, vivid red leather jacket on his hook. In  _ his _ place. It didn't look like anything Eiki would be caught dead in - Eiki didn’t do  _ colour _ \- and anyway, he was sure the kid knew better than to steal his spot. Frowning, he picked up the invader, looking for a label. Oh, it was  _ nice _ . "You had your girlfriend over again?" 

The question seemed to wake Eiríkur up. Whipping his head round, he scrambled to his feet. He didn't even stop to pause the TV before he leaped across the room, snatching the jacket from Matthias' hands. "I'll take it back," He snapped, his face steeled up, his eyebrows setting into a deep frown. "Not that it's any of your business." 

Mads didn't know how to respond, shocked by the sudden, cold response. He was just  _ curious _ . As much as it felt dumb to admit, he wanted to be part of the kid’s life. Hell, he’d seen Eiki grow up, it was like it was his own little brother stood in front of him. The baby brother he’d never had had his first girlfriend! At least Matthias could find out her name. "Aw, come on. My flat, my business. Whose  _ is _ it?" 

Eiríkur turned away, still scowling. "Like I said. None of your business." 

"Go on, at least give me a hint!" Mads moved closer to him, trying to see his face. Fine, okay, it was embarrassing for the kid. But, hey, it was his flat, technically. He deserved to know who’d been in it.

With another glare, Eiki shook his head, pushing past Mads on the way to his room. 

"A girl in your classes? Monika? Uhh… Ilona? Juniper?" He prattled off a list of names he vaguely remembered of girls Eiki might’ve met. Eiki just shook his head again and again, not even a tell-tale moment of hesitation betraying his secret. 

Folding it up, Eiríkur shoved the jacket in his bag and walked away. "None of your business." 

"You're no fun," Mads complained. He kept yelling, even as the door was slammed in his face. "Fine! But I'll find out somehow!" 

\---

Laying alone in the dim streetlight filtering through the gaps in his blinds, Lukas stared at the ceiling. A lonely moth struggled against the draught. From across the hall, he could hear his flatmate snoring.

Astrid had left three hours ago, after which Alin had dragged him into rolling up a character for his next Dungeons and Dragons campaign. It’d felt weird without Mads there - though his looks and personality seemed the exact opposite of Lukas’ little group of nerdy rejects, he’d always fit right in. But when Arthur suggested extending a last-minute invitation, Lukas had shot him down immediately. Better to stay away, to stay safe.

_ Surely, it wouldn’t be so bad _ , he argued with himself, still watching the moth flit around his ceiling. They’d be playing characters, wrapped up in the game, no time to worry about personal conversations that should never -  _ could _ never - be had.  _ It’d be fine _ , he reasoned, until he remembered how adorable Mads looked when he was figuring out his characters, the little quirks and accents that showed his personality clearer than ever, even as he tried to shed it, to fall into a world of fantasy.  _ Huh. Fantasy. _

Fantasy was his escape, it always had been. A way to avoid the stress and problems that plagued human life, to run away to an idealised world where everything was perfect. He'd spent hours, days, months, probably even years living in his daydreamed realities. At first, they'd been simple. Normal days at school, but he was one of the cool kids. A class where he could answer the teacher's questions without freezing up, without the constant fear that he'd get it wrong and be picked on again by the girls in the row behind him. Then they'd grown into a fantastical world: him and Mads and Astrid as elves and fairies and mythical warriors, running through endless forests of emerald green, saving the world from ferocious monsters that just happened to look like the school bullies. It was a better world, a safe space inside his head. It was where he went when he felt lowest, because he knew it would protect him.

As he grew up, the kid's imagination fell away; his daydreams grew heavier, weighing on him as a million what-ifs, a million lives that could have been. A world where his parents were still happily married, where his brother didn't blame him for their divorce, where his family never tried to make him hate his mother. With his life crumbling around him and the moodswings of teenage depression, he couldn't just imagine the problems away anymore. As much as he'd tried, the happy fantasies had gone. 

So, naturally, he'd turned to Matthias. His sunshine boy. The one who could make him smile no matter what, who saw the silver lining in everything, whose gentle humour and open heart had drawn Lukas out of even the deepest depths of his own mind. His golden smile and warm arms, always there to support him, to help him through everything. He could tell him all his worries and not fear judgement, just someone who listened. Properly listened. Who knew even the darkest parts of his despair. 

It had been Mads, actually, who'd first suggested Dungeons and Dragons. Unexpected as it was, he'd been right. Lukas could take his problems and shove them out of the way, fully reveling in the catharsis of projecting himself onto a character, living out someone else's adventure. His daydreams grew happier - the elves returned, though more mature. For the first time in years, their laughter had returned to the forest inside his head. He'd started daydreaming less and less, trading his private universes for ones shared with friends, noted down in dog-eared books and piles of scrap paper. 

What would his fantasy world look like now? Would it be full of elves, or would it run closer to home?

_ A not-so-distant future, an apartment in a small city. A knock on the door. Lukas gets up from the sofa, shrugging off layers of blankets. As the door opens, a familiar face reveals itself. When Astrid leans in for a hug, he can smell the cinnamon wafting from the wicker basket in her hands. "Kanelbullar," she explains. "I made you two a housewarming gift." _

_ He takes the basket and sets it on the counter as Astrid busies herself with the coffee. Looking around the apartment, he notices some items amongst the comfortable clutter that don't seem to be his or hers, yet still hold an air of intimate familiarity. Picking the closest one up, he inspects it.  _

_"Oh, so_ ** _that's_** _where_ _my comb went!" A pair of arms reach around his, accompanied with a voice that sounded all too familiar. Lukas turns and gazes into bright blue eyes, glistening like Baltic waves under the summer sun._

_ "Matthias…" He says, dumbfounded. Even in his dream, Lukas' heart is fluttering. He stares, time slowing down to a halt as his eyes trace the contours of his freckled face, as he takes in his beaming smile and the scent of his soft yet chaotic hair. Strawberry. Lukas almost laughs - the same shampoo his grandma used to make them use when they stayed with her as kids.  _

_ Time starts moving again as Matthias brushes the hair from his face, a look of concern in his cornflower eyes. "What's up, kæreste?"  _

_ Lukas can't answer, staring dumbfounded at the man in front of him. He pinches himself - of course he's dreaming, but at least this dream is kind enough to let him stay a while longer. He says nothing as Matthias pulls him close, hugging back and relaxing in silent disbelief until his dream-Mads says the three words that break his heart.  _

_ Because he knows the real Mads could never tell him that.  _

When Lukas woke up, he was crying, noiseless tears soaking his pillow. He hugged it close, pretending it was Matthias as he leaned his head against, imagined soothing words and a hand running through his hair. The image of what could never be made him cry harder, each sob wracking his fragile body. His eyes moved, unseeing, across the ceiling, following his moth friend as it dragged itself to the corner and hung there, unmoving.

Emotions were overrated. He’d always known it. Caused more trouble than they were worth. He’d learnt it from the bullies at school, from the family that always fussed too much over him. If you don’t react, they’ll leave you alone. So he’d shut them out, perfected his poker face. It was hard at first, and Matthias messed it up a lot with his silly jokes. Matthias was so good at… well, everything, but specifically emotions. He knew how they worked. Lukas didn’t, so he shut them away. Force them out of him until they were so far gone he could barely remember them. He’d broken himself. Forgotten how to smile. When he learnt his permanent blankness caused just as much fuss, he’d begged Mads to re-teach him. It wasn’t a memory he was proud of. Even now, only Matthias could pull it out of him. And now, thanks to him, maybe he was broken in more ways than one.

As he rolled over, tears subsiding, the scent of Astrid's perfume on the spare pillow caught in his throat. How could he let her down like that? How could he spend his nights dreaming of the best friend who could never love him when he should be dreaming of her, the girlfriend who did? He cared for her so much, he always had done. It was just dumb Matthias, messing things up again with his stupid adorable hair and idiotic perfect smile. He let his own pillow slip from his arms, burying his face into the one that smelt like Astrid, hoping that maybe, if he dreamed hard enough, it'd fix him. It had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consistent update schedule??? i wish

Lukas knocked on Astrid’s door early that morning, carrying a bag of food he’d promised for the party. He wasn’t sure he could look Astrid in the eye now, either, but he had to keep up some appearance of normalcy, and anyway, he couldn’t let her down with this too. Taking a deep breath, he brought his hand up to tap again against the glass.

The door swung open and a pale arm shot out, grabbing him by the shoulder and he was pulled into the living room by someone a hell of a lot more overexcited than Astrid would ever be. She wrapped an arm around him, hugging tight. 

“Uh… Hey, Anneka.” Lukas clung to the bag tightly as it threatened to topple to the floor.

“Hey, Lulu!!” He could hear the extra exclamation mark. She beamed up at him before calling down the hall. “Oi, Asti, your boyfriend’s here!”

Muffled footsteps emerged from the room on the left, heading toward him. As she drew closer, they became more hesitant. Lukas finally lifted his eyes from the carpet. He forced his face to remain still as always, holding the bag up with a vacant expression. “Hi. I brought your stuff.”

Even though he felt like he was on the edge of tears, Astrid didn’t seem to find a flaw in his blank facade. Thanking him, she took the bag with a small smile and carried it to the kitchen, putting the coffee machine on on her way past. “Tea? Coffee? Or are you off somewhere?”

Lukas hovered awkwardly near the door, weighing up his options. If he stayed, his thoughts about Mads would be there constantly, eating away at him, but if he left, he’d be sat at home alone with nothing else to do but spiral further into confusion. “No, coffee sounds good.”

It only took a couple of minutes for them to slip back into their usual routine, Astrid leaning her head on his shoulder as Anneka rambled about the cool new thing she’d found, Linnea smirking every time she said something overly ‘dumb’. A comfortable silence hung between the three of them, though Anneka’s contributions were… not unwelcome. Astrid explained how she was going to decorate for the party while Linnea put the food in the fridge, making sure to always keep it just out of Anneka’s reach. Maybe stealing friends’ food was a Danish trait, Lukas decided. Or maybe the only two Danes he’d met just happened to have freakishly similar habits. Probably the latter. 

When Astrid laughed - a rare, beautiful laugh, ringing like the bells in the village church of his childhood - at yet another of Anneka’s bad jokes, Lukas wondered how he could ever have doubted his love for her. How could he ever fit with anyone more perfectly? They shared the same humour, the same sarcastic comments and witty remarks. They shared the same appreciation for just being with someone else, without needing to talk. As he and Linnea debated ideas on science and party decorations, it was as if Astrid knew what he meant before he even said it. They were one and the same, made for each other - how could he have not seen it? 

“So what’s up with you and Mads?”

It was Linnea who first asked the question. She must’ve heard from Astrid. She perched on the kitchen counter, staring intently into her coffee as if she’d never said anything.

Lukas stiffened, unsure of how to respond. “What… do you mean?” he tried. Ah, better than nothing. Maybe. Hopefully. The change of subject unsettled him and he squirmed awkwardly against Astrid, dislodging her from her cosy spot in his lap. What was up with him and Mads? Already, his thoughts from earlier seemed a lifetime ago. He sighed into Astrid’s shoulder as Linnea cocked an eyebrow at him, seeing straight through him. “It’s nothing, really. I was just overthinking but it’s… solved now.” Yeah, it was solved. Right. Nothing to worry about again. 

Astrid looked down at him, unconvinced. She put a hand to his cheek and looked into his eyes, like she was trying to read his thoughts, the same thoughts she’d always seemed to know. “You’re sure?” It was less question, more statement.

“Yeah,” Lukas reassured. At least, he thought he was. He leant into her soft hand, looking up into big, blue, sparkling eyes. “‘Snot a problem. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” Reaching up to his face, he covered her hand with his own. “Jeg er glad i deg, Asti.” The choice of words took him by surprise even as he said them, more uncertain than before, but he had to trust himself. 

Astrid smiled, tiny but content. “That’s okay, then. So long as you’re happy.”

“Ew, get a room!”

Laughing, Anneka dodged a well-aimed dish cloth. 

\---

Mads sat on the kitchen counter, surveying the scene around him. The record player in the corner was playing the latest pop hits, mixed with some heavier interruptions that had to be Lukas’ influence. Either that or Astrid had better taste than he thought. He scanned the room for his friends. Students he’d never seen before and would probably never see again milled around the cramped apartment, picking at crisps and biscuits and the other sorts of food you’d expect to find at a kid’s birthday party. It felt weird to have it all spread out like that in the uni setting, but Astrid had never really cared about what was “cool”. It was probably the coolest thing about her. 

Astrid herself was sat in the corner, holding a beer and chatting to a cool, pale guy with hair as white as Eiríkur’s. Huh, wonder if they’re related? She laughed and waved her hands about excitedly, like she always did when explaining one of her projects. They must be pretty close friends, then. Wonder why we haven’t met before? 

Behind them, he could just about see a second patch of silver-blond hair poking over the back of a sofa. That must be Eiki, right? Or was Astrid fucking collecting weirdly pale blonds? The person on the sofa stood up and Mads was relieved to see it was Eiríkur, laughing with a group of friends. Huh. Didn’t know he had those. Still no sign of Lukas - or Jan or Mattie, he guessed - Mads picked up another beer and swung his legs against the counter, tapping his fingers to the beat.

Honestly, he was surprised Astrid and her roommates knew this many people, let alone could fit them in their flat. Everywhere he looked, he could’ve sworn another three drunk college students materialised out of thin air. He said as much to Anneka, who grinned and slammed the fridge shut. 

“I know, right? My friends are only half of this! No clue where the fuck the other two managed to pull the rest from.” She slid a can across the counter to Timo, who grinned. 

“Magic.” Timo thought for a second. “And booze. Uni students’ll go anywhere for free drinks.”

“God, yeah,” Anneka agreed. “You should hear the things I’ve done for free beer. I once-”

Mads grimaced. “Not sure I wanna know, Anni. Bet Jan’d love to hear it though. Where’s he fucked off to?”

“I can’t tell him a story about himself,” Anneka said, and Timo spat out his drink in shock. “He’s…” She waved her hand aimlessly. “Eh, he was here a second ago.” Sliding through an opening in the crowd, she slipped away after a girl with long blonde hair and a particularly sour expression. Maybe the third flatmate? He didn’t know, he’d never met her.

With that, Matthias wriggled down from the counter, tiptoe-ing to peer over the crowd. It wasn’t like Jan was easy to lose, the bastard was six and a half foot tall or something like that. Even without the dumb hair. Timo tapped his shoulder and pointed down the hall, making Mads turn just in time to see Mattie disappear off into a room at the end. “Thanks, mate.”

“He’s been there for the last five minutes, you know.” Timo said, smirking. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to notice.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Grinning, Mads stuck his middle finger up at Timo, who just gave him a thumbs up as he watched him follow Matthew down the hall. 

They’d set up camp in Anneka’s room, or at least what Mads assumed was Anneka’s room, because surely no one else would paint their walls in red and black stripes. A couple of vodka bottles - some unopened, most half-empty - were strewn on the bed and rock music blared from a record player in the corner, clashing with the faint synthpop from the main room. Jan and Mattie were sprawled across cushions and plastic chairs, surrounded by a few more people. 

A guy he didn’t know winked at him as he entered, leaning upside-down over the back of his chair. He held out a blunt. Of course. “Hey, mate! Wanna smoke?”

Mads grinned, but shook his head. “Nah, not for me.” Pulling out a regular cigarette, he threw himself down on a cushion and leant his shoulder on Jan’s knee. “Should’ve fucking known this was where you’d be.” He sighed. He’d come out for a good time, he might as well take it. Anneka’s room was almost as crowded as the main one, but still no sign of Lukas. “Go on, then.”

Jan threw him the lighter without looking at him. “Hm. Took you long enough.” He grunted. “Matt, open the window. It’s hot as fuck in here.”

“Dunno, mate, maybe if you took the scarf off...” the new guy from before pointed out. He had a cool accent, Mads decided. Australian? “It’s fucking freezing.” 

Matthew opened the window anyway, raising his eyebrows as Jan glared at the… stranger? Nah, he probably knew him. The… stranger-to-Mads. Yeah. “Trust me, I live with him,” he said. “The scarf never comes off. He probably showers with it.”

Jan glared at Mattie too. “Watch it.”

Mads laughed, lighting the cigarette and raising it to his lips. “Or what? The fuck are you gonna do?”

“Fucking… murder.”

“Sure.” Mads raised an eyebrow. He breathed out, laughing as Jan swiped away the smoke from his face. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, go ahead!” The Aussie spread his arms out dramatically. “Never been murdered before. Sounds fun.” As he reached out to take the lighter from Mads, he nodded. “Jett.”

Mads looked up at him, confused. He was talking to him, right? “Uh. No… Mads.”

“No, I’m Jett.” He shifted in his seat so he could flop back over the arm to face him, upside-down again. “Nice to meet ya!” 

“Oh. Nice to meet ya too! How d’you know the bastard?”

Jan swore at him, kicking Mads in the leg as he walked over to the window. “Met him in a club. He’s not awful.” 

That, as Mads had discovered, was about the highest compliment Jan could give, despite Matthew’s immediate protests. He nodded at Jett with respect. Not an everyday honour. “You a student?”

“Zoology! My only goal is to wrestle a tiger.” Jett grinned. “Your fucking face, mate. Come on, it’s not that weird! Nah, I’m joking. I do like having all my limbs - oi, that’s my drink!”

Jan just smirked, pulling his now-extinguished joint out of the beer. 

“Asshole.”

Their argument was interrupted as Astrid pushed through the crowd, stopping every few feet to chat to someone behind her. Mads sat up straight. Lukas. Lukas was finally here, he could see his friend, he - Oh. That wasn’t Lukas. 

Matthias eyed the Not-Lukas suspiciously. It was the same guy from before, the one with hair as white as Eiríkur’s. Now he was closer, Mads could see his eyes were just as unusual, a bizarre purple-ish red like… some obscure gemstone, probably. He waved half-heartedly at the impostor.

“And this is Mads, he’s the one I told you about. We’ve known each other years, trust me, you’ll get on with him great.” 

Hm. We’ll see about that. He wasn’t sure he liked being told who he’d be friends with, even if it was Astrid. “Hey.”

“Hallo,” the stranger said, offering out a hand to shake. Huh. So he was like that. Weird. “You’re the one who wore the wedding dress, yes?”

Matthew snorted, immediately trying to cover it by forcing himself into a coughing fit. Jan grinned and Jett just sat there, confused. “What? Hang on, I think I wanna hear this.”

“It’s nothing,” Mads groaned. God, thanks Astrid. What a great first impression! “I lost a bet. Was kinda comfortable, actually.”

“More room for your legs,” the stranger agreed. His accent was thick, too - more noticeable than Jett’s. To be fair though, Mads decided, it wasn’t as if his own was any less obvious. Astrid elbowed her friend in the ribs. “Oh, right! I’m Gilbert. I just, uh… came here. From Germany.” His voice grew more serious as he said it and Matthias raised an eyebrow. Gilbert paused, then grinned, shaking off whatever had been bothering him. “Asti’s showing me around. Introducing me to people, you know. You can call me Gil.” He nodded at Astrid, who seemed satisfied, and gave her a thumbs up.

Astrid patted his shoulder affectionately. “Don’t look like that, Mads,” she scolded. “He’s fun. Too fun. You’ll love him.” A yell from the crowd snatched her attention. “Hey, I’ve gotta go. Come find me if you need, yeah?”

Gil nodded, impatient, and she disappeared back into the crowd.

“Finally lost her! Hell yeah!” He punched the air in celebration, throwing himself down onto the cushions. “I mean. Astrid’s great! But her friends are boring as fuck, come on.”

Laughing, Mads agreed. “I know, right? She tried to set me up with one and all she did was lecture me on medieval philosophy. And then she said she didn’t drink! It’s like they don’t know what fun is!”

“Yeah! ‘Cept Anneka, she’s cool. She’s like one of the guys. Bet she could out-drink you.” He pointed at Jan.

“Been there, done that, don’t get me started,” Jan said, scowling. “She’s… something, that’s sure.”

Within minutes, it felt like both Gil and Jett had been part of the group forever as they swapped stories of stupid bets and failed dates. As the others began to get drunker and rowdier, even their infectious grins couldn’t stop Mads from feeling like there was something weighing down on him. He smiled distantly as Gil told a particularly raunchy story of a girl back in Germany, but his heart wasn’t in it.

When Matthew came back with another round of beers, Mads figured it was probably time for him to sort things out, once and for all.

“You seen Lukas anywhere?” 

Matthew raised his eyebrows and looked over his shoulder. He said something Mads didn’t quite catch. 

“Wha?”

“I said, isn’t he friends with the weird vampire guy?” 

Mads took a few seconds to process the question. “The one who’s really into Dracula but also maybe hates it? Yeah, that’s Alin. Why? You seen him?”

Mattie nodded. “I’m not sure if Lukas is with him, but I saw him go out to the balcony with Arthur earlier.”

His eyes lit up. “The fucking balcony, how the fuck did I forget that existed?” He jumped to his feet, grinning. “Thanks, Matt. You’re the best.” A new spring in his step, he practically skipped out the room. 

As he left, Gil tore his eyes away from the argument. He frowned at Matthew. “What’s up with him?”

\---

The balcony was small and cramped enough before Mads opened the door and wriggled into the cool night air. Below, the city buzzed with the sound of far-off sirens and hundreds of whirring engines, barely audible past the faint hubbub echoing from the party. Alin looked up as he closed the door behind him, nudging Arthur as he whispered something, too soft for Mads to hear. Arthur laughed back. They’d outdone themselves this time - Alin’s shirt looked like something out of a Victorian novel, Arthur’s hair a garish shade of lime green. They both wore all black, their clothing ripped and patched and remade in too many bizarre ways for Matthias’ mind to process. Seeing his brother’s friends, maybe Eiríkur’s collection of safety-pinned jeans didn’t seem so out-there.

Behind them stood another figure, his face obscured by pale blond hair that shone pale gold under the lights of the night-time city. He exhaled quickly as Arthur repeated it to him, a noise Mads had come to recognise as the closest the man got to laughter for anyone except the few oldest friends. Dismissing him with a shake of his head, the man pulled his dark, heavy coat tight, his posture cold and closed off. It always was, but still Matthias felt his heart sink as he stood with his back to him, staring out across the skyline. Time ran slow, slower, slower still, as unmoving as the chilled bricks of the city. Somehow, the man fit in just right here, in this strange forest of expressionless concrete. Mads waited with dread for… minutes? Hours? It felt like an eternity. He’d always been hard to read, always easy to make a wrong step, but Matthias had thought he’d learnt. Thought he’d finally figured him out. But now, waiting alone beneath the moonlight, he realised he was further than ever.

Lukas sighed, then made a noise Matthias had never heard from him before. He stood in stunned silence, convinced he’d misheard, not daring to take a step forward. There it was again, unmistakable now, though he still couldn’t believe it. Again. And again.

Lukas’ sobs were as quiet as he was, small and sorrowful, a single tear splashing against the railing. He turned around as Mads took a step toward him, covering his face with his sleeve, stained with eyeliner. Wordlessly, he stared, unmoving as Mads walked toward him, flinching as he wiped his face. “I’m sorry.”

“What is there to be sorry for?” Avoiding him? Matthias couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed at him. He stared in awe at Lukas’ sullen face, still frozen despite the tears running down it. He had never cried, not even when they were kids.

Lukas looked away again, flinching as Mads touched his face. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I… I can’t. I can’t do that to you.”

“Can’t do what to me?” Matthias frowned, letting his hand fall to his side. He couldn’t understand the shame in his friend’s eyes as he looked up at him, his pretty face red and black and wet with tears. Had he done something? Was he sick? If Matthias knew anything, it was Lukas’ stubborn pride. “Lu, I promise, whatever it is, I understand. I can help you, please, just tell me what’s wrong. Why are you avoiding me?”

“No, you don’t.” Lukas cut him off. “You can never understand. Not this time. I’m sorry, Matthias. It’s… It’s for your own good.” He pushed past him, slamming the balcony door closed before Mads even had the chance to open his mouth. 

He stood alone on the empty balcony and wiped the tears from his own face, his sleeves stained black. His own good. What the fuck was that meant to mean? What could Lukas be going through that would hurt him worse than the gut-wrenching pain of not knowing him? Of not seeing him everyday, not joking around and talking for hours about nothing in particular, not witnessing the rare smile as it crept across his handsome face?

Maybe Lukas didn’t know him so well, after all.

On his way back in, he tiptoed around a passed-out Timo, trying not to stand on his outstretched hand. He probably should’ve stopped to make sure he was okay, but Erzebet took one look at his face and mouthed the words “I’m on it”. Thank God. Dealing with a passed-out drunk friend was the last thing he wanted right then. Though he wasn’t sure what he did want. Space, mostly. A chance to clear his head. At least Linnea’s room should have an unoccupied window. God, he needed a smoke break. Alone. 

\---

Eiríkur was glad he’d worked up the courage to invite Leon to Astrid’s party, because by 11pm Raivis was passed out on the sofa and Yong Soo was just entirely incoherent. Leon had laughed at him when he asked for looking so nervous - they’d been dating nearly a year, for fuck’s sake - but agreed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Now he laid on Astrid’s sofa, sandwiched between his boyfriend and a sleeping Raivis, laughing and cheering at whatever the fuck Yong Soo was trying to do with a cushion and a tower of beer bottles. 

Leon’s laugh was the prettiest thing Eiríkur had ever heard and, alcohol beating out his perpetual shyness, he leaned down to tell him so, slurring against his ear.

Leon grinned, embarrassed, looking away just as Yong Soo’s creation shattered on the floor. He wrapped an arm around Eiki’s shoulders and pulled himself up. “You haven’t looked in a mirror recently, then.” He looked over Raivis’ head to survey the party. Side-stepping the mess on the floor, he held out a hand and pulled Eiki up. “Let’s go find a drink.”

Eiríkur clung onto his boyfriend’s arm as they fought their way through the drunken crowd. Leon looked nervous about the contact, but honestly, no one was sober enough to notice and Eiki wasn’t sure he was sober enough to care. Not even when, halfway to the kitchen, they got distracted. Leon leaned into him as they stumbled over chairs and pillows and Mads’ friend Timo - slumped on the floor in front of a bedroom - and almost fell through the door.

As soon as it closed behind them, he had his hands round Leon’s waist, kissing him like he could never get enough, over and over and over until he could think of nothing but the feeling of Leon’s lips pressing against his. Their legs intertwined as he pushed Leon against the wall, kisses trailing down his boyfriend’s neck as Leon twisted a hand in his hair.  
God, if only-

"Oh." 

Startled, Eiríkur's head shot up. 

He froze.

Mads was stood in the open doorway, an unlit cigarette dropping at his feet. His hand was on the handle still and Eiki couldn't do anything but watch passively as he tried to take a step backward, tripping over his own feet as if stopped by an invisible wall. 

After what felt like a minute, Eiki's brain kicked in and he scrambled to pull his shirt back on. Leon was still frozen like a deer in headlights and - fuck, fuck, fuck. Desperately, he threw his jacket over his boyfriend, trying to shield him. 

Mads looked from Eiki to Leon and back to Eiki, who could feel his cheeks turning a hot scarlet. 

"Oh," he repeated, eloquent as ever. "That's… Oh." 

"Get out." 

With a gulp, Mads nodded. He seemed to find his feet, turning and leaving without even stopping to pick up his fallen cigarette.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its been a while!! i wasnt dead just overthinking lmao shoutout to my bf for putting up with all my nonsense!! and also for making a playlist for this au!! actually he made three but this one has all the songs: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1RvsQyjjM1kMnrRLIhaVBQ?si=0D0rjynNQ6SJTtQyrYLA7g

Eiríkur stood alone on the empty balcony, staring out over the sleeping city. Behind him, the party was starting to clear up: Mads had left pretty quick, Leon had gone to help carry a very drunk Yong Soo and Raivis back to their respective flats and even Mads' weird friends had been turned out of their hiding spot in Anneka's room. It was unlike him to stay this late - hell, he was usually first to leave. Not that he wanted to stay, particularly. Haunting Astrid's balcony for an hour or so just felt like a safer alternative to going home and facing whatever Mads had to say about… well, about him. God, of all the people to walk in on them… 

Lost in thought, he barely noticed when a familiar figured leant against the railing next to him, his head hung low. Eiríkur sighed. His brother echoed him. 

"Hey." 

"Hey." Lukas looked down at the cars below and lifted a cigarette to his lips. Since when was he a smoker? It must've been a pretty recent development, Eiki decided, because there was no way their father would've approved. Though, then again, it wasn't like he knew Lukas well enough to have noticed. He hadn't for a long time. 

"Rough night?" he asked. Even if he couldn't tell what he was thinking in the same way Mads always could, Eiríkur still recognised the long lines of remorse that graced his brother's sullen features. 

"Shouldn't've been," Lukas answered. Eiki waited for him to continue, but Lukas' lips remained firmly pressed together, save for when he took another drag from his cigarette and blew a cloud of dull smoke into the cold air. 

Eiríkur nodded softly, watching a moth flit around in the yellow lamplight. "Yeah, same here." 

Lukas nodded back at him and they stood in silence, an unspoken mutual understanding that though they cared for each other as brothers, they weren't close enough to press the issue further. Not that he deserved to have Lukas care about him, Eiríkur reminded himself. Not after all the things he'd said. And anyway, he was glad Lukas didn’t ask, because then he'd have to admit, if he thought about it too heavily, his own hypocrisy, and… well. It had been a long enough night already. 

"Good talk," said Lukas as his cigarette burnt out, the ashes falling on the tiles. 

"Good talk," Eiríkur echoed, watching his brother leave just as silently and sullenly as he'd arrived. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for what he could have had. Ah, whatever. It was his own fault, anyway. 

\---

When Mads finally managed to drag himself up the next morning, the sun was already blaring in through the open curtains. The throbbing in his temples wouldn’t let him forget it, either. Maybe he should start drinking less… He entertained the thought for a few seconds.  _ Nah. That’d be no fun _ . From the shared living area, he heard a faint humming - Eiki had always been an early riser. Not that he needed to be, to be awake at 11:30am on a Monday.

Eiki was sitting at the kitchen table, almost hidden behind a book the size of his head. Literature majors, huh. How did they have the patience? Even the sight of the massive tome made Matthias’ head start aching again.

Slinking onto the sofa, Mads collapsed against the cushions and coughed a few times to get his flatmate’s attention.

“Didn’t you just get up? Why are you going back to sleep already?”

Mads groaned. The light  _ hurt _ . Stupid party. Wait… Eiríkur… party. Eiríkur. Party. Something had happened. Something important. What was it,  _ what was it, what was it… _

“Hey, Eiki?”

The teen looked up - not an easy feat. There was a considerable  _ thud! _ as he put the book down. “Yeah?”

“About last night…”

Eiríkur froze, drawing back to hide behind his stack of books. He glared stonily at Matthias. “What?” He sounded on-edge, but his voice and posture soften as he peeked out over the books. “Please don’t kick me out. I promise I’ll keep to myself, there’s nowhere… Mads, I can’t afford anywhere else, please-”

Surprised, Mads pulled himself up. “No!”  _ Ouch. Too quick. _ “No, no, no, no, no! Not what I meant! Hey, hey, don’t worry! Just wanted to say… it’s cool, ya know? Fine with me. I ain’t got a problem. Just… be more open with me, I guess. You can tell me stuff. You don’t hafta keep it all to yerself, ya know?” He had no clue where the speech came from, but he went with it, giving Eiki a thumbs up.

Eiki offered a tiny smile back. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try.” He went to pick his book back up, but Mads interrupted him. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh! Nothing’s wrong. Just… talk to me, yeah? I wanna know you better. Considerin’ we live together and that. I’ve known you so long, but I still know nothin’ about you.”

Eiríkur considered it for a moment, then set the book back down again.  _ Thud _ . “Talk about what?”

Mads wasn’t sure himself, but it felt like the right thing to do. He struggled to find a question that wouldn’t seem insulting. “How long have you… you know?”

“Nearly a year.” Eiki seemed unimpressed. “Before you ask, you’re the first person to know.”

“Huh.” Mads nodded. “Cool, cool. Uh…” What else was there to ask? He couldn’t help but be curious. “Have you always known? That you’re…?” He didn’t want to say the word, in case it was offensive somehow. “That you’re into guys?”

“You can say gay. It’s less weird if you do.” He sighed. “I guess? Deep down. Took me a while to realise it. Why?”

“No reason,” Mads said. He wasn’t  _ lying _ , but it didn’t feel completely true. Like there was a reason, he just didn’t know about it. He shook the feeling off. “And Leon?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

_ Well, that’s fair _ . He looked at the boy - the young man - in front of him. Sure, they hadn’t talked much, barely exchanged a few sentences, but Mads felt like he was already learning to understand him better. His closed-off tone and defensive attitude contrasted with his sudden honesty that reminded him of someone. Weird to think the man sat at the kitchen table was the same small, shy kid that used to cling to his brother’s trouser legs, too scared to let go. God, he’d grown a lot. Mads smiled. “You know, I bet Lu’s proud of you.”

Eiki didn’t say anything, just looked down, a tiny, tense smile on his lips. Bittersweet, Mads would call it, if he was one to use words like that. 

He decided to continue, taking Eiki’s soft smile as encouragement. “For being open about this. And honest. He’d be proud of that.” He didn’t know really what had happened between the brothers - he’d only heard Lukas’ side of the story, that it was something about their parents and Eiki hated him - but he remembered what Eiki had said over breakfast just a few weeks before.  _ Gotta fix things _ . 

“I wish I could tell him.” 

Mads raised an eyebrow as the kid finally spoke. “You could. He wouldn’t judge you for it.” He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew it was true. After everything Lukas had said over the years about his little brother, he knew he wouldn’t just throw Eiríkur aside like that. Not if he’d come to him about something so personal.

“No, I…” Eiki sighed. “I know that. I just… It’s not that I’m scared of how he’ll react. I just don’t  _ know _ him. I- I wish I knew him better. Wish I hadn’t been so awful to him.” His shoulders sank, the regret seeming to weigh heavy on his skinny frame. “It’s my fault. Sure, he’s a fucking dick sometimes, but we all are, aren’t we? And I said all those things to him, I accused him of so much, I was so angry… And it was never his fault. I was young and stupid and selfish and I believed everything Dad said and now... I don’t know how to make it up to him.” He looked away during his outburst, moving across to stare blindly out of the window. “He’s my  _ brother _ , but it feels like he’s no more than a stranger.”

“Hey.” Mads got up. He walked toward Eiríkur, his voice low and soothing. “It’s okay. You were only a kid.”

Eiki shook his head. “I was old enough to know better. Dad blamed Mum for how he turned out and I blamed Lukas because I was stupid enough to believe him. But… I think I understand now. There’s nothing wrong with Lukas, or at least nothing more than there is with you and me. He just works different and there’s nothing wrong with it. He can’t help being him like I can’t help being me. But I hated him for it.” As Mads hugged him, Eiríkur sniffed into his shoulder, leaning his cheek on the cold denim of his jacket. “I can’t tell him. Not until I fix it. ‘Cause I’m a fucking hypocrite.”

Mads grimaced. God, he knew the feeling. Fixing things with Lukas was… difficult. But this… This he’d heard about enough, from the other side. “You should tell him that. Maybe not all at once, but just… let him know, ya know? He cares about you. A lot.”

“Yeah… I guess. I’ll try.” 

Eiki’s head jerked upward as a beeping sound started to ring through the flat. “Shit, gotta get to class!” Sprinting back to the table, he piled up the books into his bag - fucking hell, how heavy  _ was _ that thing - and flung it over his shoulder, running to the door. As he fumbled to unlock it, he looked back at Matthias. “He cares about you too, you know.”

Mads just laughed. “Yeah, right.”

\---

Lukas wasn't quite sure what time he'd gone to sleep. Or whether he'd gone to sleep at all. Maybe he'd just been laying there, half-asleep and disassociated, for the last few hours. Same difference, really. He'd helped the girls clean up after the party - including luring a very hungover Jan out of the bathroom because Anneka said she "didn't feel like it" - and made himself some breakfast. Soon enough, they'd all crowded round the tiny table and the smell of freshly baked - microwaved - croissants filled the air. 

"Here," Linnea said, reaching past Astrid's head to open the cupboard. "My gran gave me some homemade jam she made over the summer." With a soft smile, she passed it to Anneka, who rubbed her tired eyes and smiled back, her hair sticking up in impossible directions. 

"Thanks, angel," she responded, and Jan raised an eyebrow. Whatever look passed between the three of them then conveyed a meaning Lukas couldn't hope to decipher. 

Astrid leant over to hold his hand. "Thank you," she said. Lukas looked up in confusion. When he asked her to clarify, she just shrugged. "Helping to clean up. Staying here. Being here. It means a lot." 

"Oh," Lukas responded, and his mouth twitched up slightly into what could technically be called a smile, but was really more of a pathetic grimace. That was just… what you were meanta do, right? Astrid was his friend. His girlfriend. He'd do the same for Mads.  _ Wait, bad example.  _ He'd probably do the same for Alin and Arthur. Probably.

Shrugging, he took the jam from Anneka, who'd managed to smear it everywhere.  _ Gross _ . He grimaced at Astrid again and she nodded back. Sometimes he took it for granted that she could understand what he meant without him uttering a word. 

After breakfast, they washed the dishes together. He couldn't think of anything to say and she seemed content enough with the quiet, so they stood together in silence until the last soapy plate was placed on the drying rack and Astrid kissed him on the forehead, drying her hands and turning to pack up to go to class.

"Gil's coming over later," Lukas said. It was more a statement than a question. 

Astrid looked back, nodding. "Yeah, he's helping me with my German. I said I'd proofread his essay for him in return." 

He nodded. Gil was cool enough. He had Mads' sense of humour. And Astrid had dedicated herself so fully to making sure he felt at home in the West. He smiled faintly to himself, though he wasn’t sure it quite reached his lips. Always so kind, so gentle, his Astrid. Though she looked intimidating at first, she really did have a heart of gold. And she was so devoted to Gil...

_ Was he jealous?  _ He didn't think so. They were just friends. Though he'd heard the way she talked about him to anyone who'd listen, like he was the most important person in her life. Ah, well. It wasn't like it was unfair. Maybe his thoughts about…  _ someone…  _ were still locked deep within the comfort of his own daydreams, but still. Astrid could do what she wanted. Maybe it stung a bit - of course it would, she was his best- his  _ girl _ friend - but he was too preoccupied to care. 

Astrid was looking at him still, watching his reaction with her brow furrowed. Lukas just nodded. "Cool. Have fun." He was probably overthinking anyway. Maybe he should get to know Gil better himself.

When Astrid headed off for class, no one else said a word as he quietly packed up his things and left, still deep in thought. Only Linnea raised an eyebrow as he let the door slam behind him. 

Rain splashed against his face as he made his way toward campus, his satchel soaked through as a passing lorry drenched him and the pavement in the contents of a nearby puddle. Thank God he’d put his classwork in a plastic folder. The lecture hall itself was warm and dry, and Arthur waved at him from their usual seats near the back as he entered.

“Sleep well?” he asked, laughing. 

Lukas’ hands flew instinctively to his face. Shit, he must look a mess. He ran his fingers through his hair, but it seemed surprisingly unknotted. 

“Nah, you’re fine,” Arthur reassured him. “You just look tired. Here.” He picked something up off the floor next to him. “I brought you coffee. Black, no sugar.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Lukas sipped on his coffee as he watched the rest of the students file in. Growing up as he had in a small country village, it still felt surreal to see so many people the same age gathered in the same place for the same thing. He scanned the hall for any sign of Alin, though he didn’t hold out much hope. He had a habit of skipping the earlier classes and copying Lukas’ notes afterward.

Always Lukas’, mind you. Arthur flat out refused to participate in such a “cheater’s scheme”. Lukas had too, at first, but after a couple of weeks of begging from Alin - who could act rather like Lukas’ own little brother at times - he’d eventually given in. Still, it would be good for Alin to show up and write his own notes for once.

As the professor stood up and cleared his voice, he accepted that he’d have no such luck. He noted down the key facts the teachers said - a general outline of the Wars of the Roses - and added a few more points for Alin to keep up. Not that he couldn't learn the same things from the textbook, but he got annoying when Lukas didn’t let him copy his notes and it was worth it to stop the arguments. 

"Oi, Bondevik." Arthur had been unusually quiet the whole time. Well, not unusually - he was always the type to listen attentively to all the lecturer's tangents, but usually if he did speak, he'd've done it sooner. 

"What?" he whispered back, not tearing his eyes from the blackboard. 

"Guess what I heard." Arthur's voice lost its usual tone of disinterest as he said it, so Lukas assumed whatever it was, it was good. Or at least mildly intriguing. Or maybe about that French culinary student he was weirdly obsessed with. 

Lukas sighed. "It better be worth all the notes I'll have to catch up."

Not that there were any, the lecture was almost over, but the annoyed look on Arthur's face was… satisfying somehow. "Jan and Anneka are back together." 

He sighed harder, causing a few people in the row in front to look back at him in confusion. "How is that interesting? It happens once a month. I could've told you that." 

Arthur made a "hmph"-ing noise. "Ok, well how about… Francis says his sister's friend Lucille has a crush on your brother." 

"Cool." Lukas didn’t know how Arthur was expecting him to react. "Good for her?" 

The loud, exasperated sigh that followed earned the two of them a small chorus of shushes and a long glare from the professor. "God, you're hard to please." 

"Maybe you're just bad at pleasing." 

Arthur harrumphed again, but this time quiet enough to avoid the pointed stares of their classmates. "Fine, fine. Well then… What if I said every night I've been down to the bar for the last fortnight, Køhler's been there asking about you?" 

_ Oh. _

Lukas frowned at the blackboard, turning back to his notes. He didn't… He couldn't let Arthur know he'd hit a nerve. 

"Has he now." His voice was flat as ever, but he could feel his poker face beginning to slip. "He… Well then. If he wants to waste his time, that's not up to me." 

The unsteadiness, the shaking hesitation in his voice shouldn't've been perceivable, but fuck, Arthur had lived with him for the past three years, he knew him well enough to see through his mask. 

He grunted, shifting back in his seat. "You know you can't avoid him forever. Whatever he's done, give him a chance to apologise, come on." 

"Didn't think you'd be one to take pity on him," Lukas muttered.  _ Let him apologise, let him apologise,  _ God, how many times had he heard that in the last week? Then again, he couldn't exactly explain that Mads had nothing to apologise for. Not without everyone finding out what was wrong with him. 

Arthur bristled, like it was some great insult to his persona. "It's clearly bothering you a lot. I just think it'd be better for everyone if you sorted it." 

Lukas didn’t laugh, but he blew air out his nose in a way that could be considered a laugh if you knew enough quiet people. 'For everyone', huh. It was practically Arthur's codeword for 'I care about you but I'm too proud to admit it'. As he began to pack up, he just shook his head softly. If only he knew… 

The hand on his shoulder was unexpected, jerking him back as he tried to disappear into the crowd. 

"Lukas…" Arthur's eyes held a faint glimmer of… understanding? "You know you can tell us anything." 

"Yeah… Maybe."


	6. Chapter 6

Their usual café was closed that morning - something about the owner's family coming over from Belgium, fair enough - so they met Alin in the square and headed home. The instant coffee wasn't as good, but Lukas knew a few tips and tricks that brought it close. Tip number one: don't let Arthur make it. 

"Here, copy this." 

"You're a lifesaver, Lulu." 

Alin flashed a thumbs up as Lukas flinched at the nickname. Had he always reacted like that? Alin had called him that before, he hadn't cared then, at least not more than minor annoyance. It was just a nickname. Mads called him that all the time. What was his problem? 

He awkwardly thumbs up-ed back, but Alin was too busy scribbling away to notice. 

"You know, he wouldn't need to save you if you actually went to the lectures." Arthur scowled.  _ Here we go again.  _

"My brain doesn't work that well at 8am."

"Everyone else manages."

" _ Everyone else _ didn't come here from communist Romania less than three years ago! My brain doesn't like speaking English that early." 

Lukas wasn't sure that argument would hold up considering the number of international students, but he held his tongue. Better to just keep things as they were.  _ No fights today, please, _ he was already so exhausted… 

Thankfully, they dropped it, chattering away to each other as Lukas drank his coffee, watching the birds fly by outside the window. Eiríkur had always like birdwatching - Lukas could've sworn his first word had been "puffin". 

Alin actually worked pretty quick when he got down to it. By the time he looked up, he was already on the bottom of the third page. "Hey, Lu?" 

Lukas sighed. "What do you need?" 

"What  _ is _ up with you and Mads? What did he do?" 

_ Of course. This again _ .

"It's nothing. It doesn't matter. He didn't do anything." He was getting sick of repeating himself. He just… had to get over it, right? Just wait until the feelings… went away. That was the safest option. It'd be so much easier if people would just leave it alone. 

Alin raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you avoiding him if it's nothing? You're obviously upset about it." 

Arthur nodded, agreeing with him for once. "We're not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about." 

"Look, just leave it. Please. It's my fault, I don't want to talk about it." 

"Well, he obviously doesn't blame you for-" 

"Oh my God." Alin sat bolt upright, throwing his pen across the table in excitement. "You like him, don't you?" 

Lukas frowned. "When he's not being an idiot, I guess. I've known him since we were kids, you should know that." 

"No, like-" he shot a glance at Arthur, his expression unreadable, as if there was some sort of great conspiracy between them. 

Arthur nodded back. "Romantically." 

"In a gay way." 

“And you feel bad about it.”

Lukas stood up, picking his empty coffee cup up from the table. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He walked over to the sink, his heart pounding so hard each beat echoed in his head. The door to his bedroom was directly in his sight, he could escape at any moment, it was okay, it was okay, it was gonna be okay. Desperately, he tried to steady himself against the counter, his legs shaking.

If Arthur noticed his reaction, he didn’t push it, looking down in embarrassment. 

"Lukas…" Alin frowned. "You can tell us anything. You know that." 

His fists clenched on the ceramic, his knuckles white. "I know." It felt like the only thing anyone told him nowadays and it was a fucking lie, because the second Mads found out, he'd-

Lukas didn’t want to think about that. 

He took a deep breath, then another. Maybe Alin was right, maybe he just needed to get it off his chest. They could help. Alin and Arthur could help him. He didn't even have to worry about them freaking out because fuck, it was Alin and Arthur, if anyone would understand what it felt like to be 'weird' and outside the normal, it was them. All he had to do was say the word. They could help. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Astrid's name flashed through his mind. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to pause 

To seal his lips again, to drop his shoulders and sigh heavily, so heavily, leaning against the cabinet. "I can't."

It felt like a lie. Of course he could, it'd be easy, his friends were right there, he knew they'd be nothing but accepting and supportive and loving. But he couldn't betray Astrid. He loved her like a sister. 

_Like a sister_ and never anything more. Not for him.

Arthur just nodded, ignoring Alin's confused expression. "You should tell her first," he said, and Lukas wondered how he'd read his mind. Had he really become so predictable? And to think he was meant to be the dark, eclectic wild-child. 

"I can't," he repeated, and that time it wasn't a lie. Rinsing out his coffee cup, he stared at Arthur, his face blank. He looked no different to normal, probably, but he felt so hollow. Empty. Like everything he said and did was just an act, a bad performance by someone else, someone who was just puppeting his body for him. The real him was with Matthias in his dream world, where nothing could hurt him. If only his dreams could ever become reality. 

Without a word, Lukas nodded to both Arthur and Alin, dried his mug on the tea towel and locked himself in his room. 

\---

Eiríkur sat by the phone, doing his best to ignore Matthias’ incessant chatter. Yeah, he had to admit, it was a relief and a miracle he was so accepting. Some of the other guys he knew would’ve been kicked out for half as much. He was… grateful. Very grateful to Mads. But  _ God _ , did he ever stop asking dumb questions?

He’d switched off half way through “so what’s it like to kiss a guy?” -  _ well, Matthias, I wouldn’t exactly have anything else to compare it to, would I?  _ \- and just let him drone on in the background, occasionally nodding or shrugging when it felt appropriate. 

Finally, the bell rang to rescue him from this misery. He left Mads monologuing about “you know, I’m not gay, but some guys are just objectively hot” -  _ truly a convincing argument _ \- and hopped up, dashing to the door.

Leon stood on the other side, like promised, dressed in… Well, he wasn't exactly sure but it was probably fashionable. His red leather jacket was recognisable, and the Buzzcocks t-shirt they'd DIYed after seeing the prices on real band shirts. His trousers were… was that vinyl? Eiki grinned. No way his dad would've let Leon in the house looking like this. It was new and exciting and  _ so, so cool.  _

Leon grinned back at him and, after checking the hallway for passers-by, leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He took Eiki's hand, pulling it away from where he was poking at his worn denim jacket. "You look amazing, don't worry." 

Eiki wasn't convinced, anxiously twisted a metal button badge between his fingers, but he nodded. If he was good enough for Leon, that was all he needed. As he closed the door behind him, he waved goodbye to Matthias, who had stopped rambling to grin back at him and wiggle his eyebrow. Eiki just scowled at him. 

"Hey! Don't give me that face!" 

"You're the worst, Køhler." He turned to Leon, gripping his hand tight, comfortable in the safety of the empty block of flats. "Come on, then." 

Eiríkur had never skated before. A fact that hadn’t seemed important until suddenly he was stood in the middle of a disco with four very un-co-operative wheels strapped to each foot. He couldn’t dance either, another fact that was becoming increasingly obvious as he hurtled across the floor, gripping on to Leon’s hand as best he could. 

Leon wasn’t much better at it than he was, but he had figured out how to stand up properly, which was a pretty decent headstart as far as Eiki was concerned. 

“See! Now you’re doing it!”

He frowned, concentrating on sliding on foot very carefully in front of the other. The other skaters seemed to be - ah, yes! That worked better. Slowly, he started to skate toward Leon, picking up speed. His fingers skimmed the top of the wall before lifting off and that was  _ it _ , he was doing it, he could skate, he -

_ Oh, fuck. _

You know, there was really something to be said about lying on the slippery floor of a roller disco with your boyfriend, laughing and watching the kaleidoscope colours whirl round above you while cheesy pop songs play in the background.

“Mm... maybe you should’ve learnt how to stop first, hey?”

“Maybe so,” Eiki said, pushing himself up. A girl in a yellow dress gave them a dirty look as she swerved around them. Clinging onto the wall, Eiki put a foot down and -  _ splat.  _ “Fuck. How do I get up?”

Leon laughed, climbing back to his feet. Smirking, he held out a hand. “Come on, Bambi. You owe me a dance.”

They were an odd pair, a little punk island in a neon sea of hairspray and shoulder pads. Honestly, Eiríkur couldn’t tell what got them stared at most: the clothes, the fact they didn’t have any girls with them, or their atrocious skating skills. His younger self would have run and hid, but just having Leon there made it worth it. He took him by the hands and twirled him round, the two of them whirling across the room. Hey, ten minutes ago that move would’ve sent them careening into a crowd of Michael Jackson wannabes. Maybe they weren’t so awful after all.

A slower song came on and Leon grabbed him by the hands, pulling him away from the wall. Behind them, a couple of people started muttering, but  _ fuck it _ . If they couldn’t get their heads out their asses, it was their own problem. It wasn’t like they knew them.

“Don’t look so scared,” Leon said, grinning. “I won’t let you fall.”

"I know." It felt weird, trying to dance when they barely knew how to skate, but he put a hand round Leon's waist and let him take the lead as they spun. In seconds, the outside world faded away, judgemental stares from poodle-permed prom queens turning into a vibrant blur. 

Twist and brake and slide and twist and - 

"Sorry. 'Bout Mads." 

Leon shrugged, changing their course to avoid a puddle of spilled cola. "Hey, no, stop apologising. He already said it himself, it's fine. You worry too much, puffin." 

Doubtful, Eiríkur laced his fingers in Leon's as they swung away from each other. "What if he tells someone?" 

"Who is there to tell?" They swung back together and Leon caught him by the arms so fast Eiki suspected he'd left half his stomach behind. "No one knows my family."

"True," he admitted. Nope, stomach seemed pretty intact, considering the amount of butterflies going wild in there. "I'd like to, though." 

Leon raised an eyebrow. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“You can just… I don’t know.” He shrugged, trying not to skate into Leon as he ducked under his arm. “Tell them I’m a friend or something.”

“I guess,” Leon said, grimacing. “You sure, though? They’re pretty fucking annoying.”

Eiki laughed. “They’re family, isn’t that their job?”

“You got me there. Fine. Next Saturday. Meet me at the Tube station near the library. Wear something… presentable. You can come meet my unfortunate still-housemates.” 

“I’d be honoured.” 

As fun as the roller disco was, Eiríkur felt a hell of a lot safer with his feet flat on solid ground. Even if it came in the form of dizzying neon patterned black carpet. He sipped his Pepsi, watching in amazement as Leon beat level after level of Donkey Kong on the new arcade machine. 

“See, it’s easy, you just…” Leon tapped the controls, his hands moving fast for Eiki to comprehend. “Here, you try.”

Ah. Oh no.  _ Time to embarrass myself. Yay!  _ Eiki stepped forward, putting his drink down on the wall beside him. As he reached out, Leon wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning his head on his shoulder. 

Oh. That was… close. Very close.

Eiríkur looked around nervously as the next level loaded up, then relaxed into Leon’s touch. The disco music faded away, replaced by the tuneful beeps of the arcade. He could feel Leon pressed against his back as he instructed him, his hands dancing on the controls. 

"No, left. Left!" 

Eiki shoved the lever. 

"Other left. Look, here." Standing on his toes - because Eiki was taller than he felt like he should be, long and gangly in ways that Leon assured him was cute and that he very much doubted - Leon held Eiríkur's hand around the controls. "Let me help you." 

There was something so intimate about standing so close, Eiki decided, working together in a happy silence, holding hands, united as one. Like time moved slower. Just him and Leon, Leon and him, their own happy little bubble. 

At least, there was until he made a wrong move and threw himself off the plattform. The GAME OVER flashed in his eyes, bright and obnoxious. Ew. Nothing romantic about Donkey Kong. 

"Sorry," he said, because Leon had looked on track to beat his high score. 

He shrugged. "Best level I've ever played." 

"Cheesy. Disgusting." Eiki grinned. "Love you too. Even if you are  _ way _ too good at arcade games."

"You know, not even I'm perfect at everything. There's one game here I've never managed to win."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you." 

"I'm serious! I'll show you." Leon unwrapped himself from his boyfriend, looking around before kissing him on the cheek. "If you beat it, I'll be mad. Well… mostly proud, but mad." 

Feeling his cheeks start to heat up, Eiki shook his head. “No way I’ll beat it. But go on then.”

They walked hand-in-hand past blinking neon lights and spinning wheels and far too many Pac Man games for any one place on Earth, taking in the sights and sounds of the arcade. Little kids ran giggling between flashing machines, stray tokens littering the floor. Everything smelt vaguely of hot dogs and candyfloss, both of which seemed to be pretty popular choices in the café along the far wall. Eiki finished his Pepsi, dropping the cup into the closest bin.

“Ta da! Here it is!” Leon waved his arms dramatically. “The one arcade game I’ve never managed to beat. My oldest rival, my archnemesis, my mortal enemy, the game to end all games.”

Eiki looked up. “That’s a claw machine.”

“An  _ evil _ claw machine,” Leon corrected him. He gestured up to the harsh white light of the glass box, stuffed full of Troll Dolls and Care Bears. “I’ve probably sunk three hundred quid into this thing over the years and it still won’t give me anything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a claw machine, though… Surely it can’t be  _ that _ hard.”

Leon shrugged, nodding toward the control panel. “See for yourself.”

Eiríkur stepped up to the control panel, holding his hand out for the token. Leon dropped it in his hand. As he slid it into the slot, he narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the movement of the machine. Left. Left. Bit more left - now back, back, and down to where a bear was lying above the others, right on the top of the pile. The claws gripped its stomach.  _ Come on, come on, come on. _

The bear dropped into the chute.

“What the fuck,” Leon said. He stared at the bear as Eiki pulled it from the machine. “How the-?”

Eiki grinned, enjoying the shocked reaction. “It’s the only one I’m good at.” He petted the soft pink fur absentmindedly, before offering it to Leon. “For you.”

“Wait, seriously?” Beaming, Leon took the bear - it was cute how excited he was. “I’ll name you… Susan.”

“Susan. Really? She sounds like a grandma.”

Leon moved the bear’s soft paw to boop - sorry,  _ punch _ \- Eiríkur on the arm. “Yeah. And it’s rude to make fun of people’s names, you know. Apologise to Susan, Eiríkur.”

Eiki sighed dramatically, fighting to hold back his giggles. He looked down at his boyfriend’s sarcastic pout, then at the bright pink heart of the Care Bear. “I’m sorry, Susan.”

“Good. She forgives you.” Tucking the bear under his arm, Leon grinned. He looked around, then dropped his voice to a whisper as he moved closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

\---

Mads threw himself down on the sofa, yawning. 

Jett raised an eyebrow - which must be hard, considering how much eyebrow he had. They were like Leon’s somehow… And Lukas’ friend Arthur’s. Was there some sort of weird eyebrow cult going on that he’d missed out on?

“You good, mate?”

Mads snapped back to reality. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, just tired.”

Jan scoffed. “At 8pm? You really are turning into an old man.”

He grunted, throwing a cushion at Jan’s face.  _ Ah, fuck. Missed. _ “Sorry, Matt.”

Matthew pulled the cushion out his beer and glared at it, before throwing it aside. “You sure you’re okay? It's not like you to be… I dunno. Like this.”

“Ha!” Mads swung his legs, launching himself upright. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I just need some excitement.”

Matthew frowned and shared a glance with Jan - a glance Matthias dutifully pretended he didn’t know the meaning of. Opening his mouth to reply, Matthew-

“Excitement? I can do excitement.” Gilbert slammed his empty glass on the coffee table. “Come on! You, me, these old bastards - let’s go out! Explore the city! Beats being stuck up in here your whole life.”

Vague indignation flashed briefly across his face, but Jan nodded.

“I’m in.” Jett added, crushing an old can. They all looked to Mads.

“Sure, why not?”

“I really don’t think this is the healthy way to-” 

“To hell with that nonsense.” Mads grinned, flinging an arm round Matthew’s shoulder. “Let’s go get smashed!”

A couple rounds and an encounter with a security guard later, Mads stared at his apartment ceiling, sighing. Maybe Matthew was right. Fucking…  _ being sensible. Who let that be a thing?  _ He rolled over, sliding slowly off the sofa. The others must've gone home while he was passed out… fucking assholes. He'd show them… whatever. Ugh. Brain too fuzzy. He'd show them something. 

"You're awake, hey!" 

That was decidedly not Eiríkur's vague Icelandic-Norwegian middle of an accent.

Mads rolled over again so that he was facing upward. "Hggbnjh… Who the fuck-" 

A white-haired figure leaned down from the sofa and for a second Mads thought he was mistaken, maybe it was Eiríkur after all… Until his vision kicked in and he found himself staring at the new German student. 

"Hey, it's you," he said, redundantly. "Thought you were… Astrid's." He didn't really know what he meant. Astrid had introduced him, right? He'd kinda assumed Gil was staying there. 

Gil obviously understood him, because he snorted and shook his head. "Nah, got my own place. Think her boyfriend'd kill me if I stayed there. He gives me enough dirty looks as it is." He shrugged. "Probably 'cause I'm awesome and he's jealous." 

Mads grunted, his heart… doing something weird at the mention of Lukas. Fluttering? Sinking? Both? Honestly, he was too fucked to tell. Fucking… pretty asshole Lukas and his stupid handsome face and his dumb friendship. Ha! Wasn't like Mads needed his best bro anyway. Nuh uh. Things were going just fine without him. 

"Hey, Lukas is pretty awesome," he said, immediately betraying himself. "What're you… in my flat. Yeah. That." 

"Jan got pretty fucked up. Mattie didn't wanna leave you alone but he's got an interview tomorrow and wanted to get home." Gil leant his head back on the chair, holding a cigarette between his fingers. "He's boring but he's the only fucking person here with his head on right, you get me? So I told him I'd watch ya. An I did. You're not dead. Point to Gilbert." 

_ Yeah, sounds about right _ . Mads sighed. Shoving his own pettiness aside, he looked up at his new companion. "So, if you're gonna stay in my house unsupervised… Might as well tell me about yerself, right? 'Cause I know fuck all about you." 

Gilbert nodded. "That's fair." He smirked - probably meant to be a grin, but his face just  _ did _ that - and put his feet up on the coffee table, knocking off a pile of Eiríkur's notebook. "But only if you tell me about you after." 

"Deal." 

"Where to start?" Gil threw his arms wide. "Was born in East Germany. Got out last spring - long story, save that for later. Not drunk enough for that. It's a shithole over there." 

Mads nodded. Sounded vaguely familiar - Alin had made the same kinda introduction when they first met. How was he doing, anyway? Maybe he should call… He shook his head, snapping his focus back to the topic at hand. "Just you?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well… You got any family? Parents? Siblings?" Mads grinned. "Lovers?" 

Gilbert laughed, loud and somehow inherently rowdy, the kind of laughter that rang out across crowded pubs. "Nah, no  _ lovers _ ." Something in the way he said the word sounded almost teasing. Well, maybe it was a weird word choice. God, was Eiki's literature student bullshit rubbing off on him that much? "Fuck knows what happened to my parents," he said, his voice faltering slightly. He shrugged, but when he continued his tone was flatter, that laughter faded. "Probably same as always. I have a brother. He came with me." 

Mads nodded, not wanting to push any further. "And now Astrid's taken you under her wing." 

"Yeah." He drummed his fingers on the table, looking out the window. "You've known them a long time then. Her and Lukas." 

"Since we were kids."  _ But not anymore _ . Well, he'd promised to talk about himself. Had to hold up his end of the bargain. 

Gil hummed. "He always been like that?"

"Huh?" 

"Lukas. You know. Closed off. Angry at everything. Beating himself up all the time. You said he was awesome." 

Mads smiled sadly. "He was. I mean, he probably still is. Always… cared, a lot. Even if he wasn't the best at showing it. Wouldn't let ya feel lonely ever, ya know? Like, he was always there for you. Not like when people say it for the sake of saying it, either. Think he only ever said it once. Just… Always could tell when something was up. He's the most selfless person I've ever met. No, in the whole fucking world." Should he being saying this shit? Ah, fuck it, he was still too drunk or hungover or whatever the fucking word was to care. "Even after all the fights with his brother, he still looked after him. Told off the kids that made fun of him at school and found him a plaster when he scraped his knee and all that, even when Eiki would just glare at him back."

"Eiki's the kid, right? Your flatmate?" 

"Yeah. He's okay now. Grown up a lot." Mads sighed. "He's always been so cool, ya know? Lukas, that is. Actually, I guess you don't know. Not in like, the usual way with the parties and the fashion and all that. But he always had the best ideas and the funniest jokes and he's just… He hides it a lot, but he's the kindest, most creative person… probably ever."

"Woah, dude, keep it in your pants." Gil opened another beer, offering a second to Matthias.  _ Eh, might as well. _ "Huh, guess that explains it. Kinda wondered why Astrid kept him around. He's different when ya know him, then. Thought he was just an asshole." 

"He has his moments." God, so much for moving on. Mads groaned, already feeling the tension start weighing down on his head. "How's life over here? Must be different." 

"I can say whatever the fuck I want for a start." That infectious grin was back in full force. "BBC's okay. Cool music sometimes. Don't have that shit back home. And, you know." He winked. "No Astrid back home either." 

"Dude!" Mads almost knocked his beer across the floor. "She has a boyfriend." 

Gilbert just shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "And Lukas has a girlfriend. Didn't stop you."

"What the fuck does that mean?" 

Gilbert just laughed and shrugged, turning away. “My brother’s okay, if you’re gonna ask. Got himself a factory job back in West Germany. His name’s Ludwig, ‘cause he’s old as  _ fuck _ .”

The shift in the conversation took him by surprise. “How - How old is he then?”

“On the outside? Twenty.” Gil grinned. “On the inside? Fuck knows. Three hundred and twelve?”

Mads laughed. “Yeah, I’ve known some guys like that. He didn’t wanna study?”

“Nah, said he’d rather work his way up. Told you he was old. Can you imagine? I’m gonna keep fucking around as long as I can, thanks.”

“Ah, cheers to that.” Still drinking was probably a shitty idea, but fuck it. Comfortable silence filled the room as they finished their drinks.

_ Gilbert, huh. Cool dude _ , Mads decided. Felt good to have a proper talk with someone for a change.

His words were still weighing on him.

Maybe he meant his feelings for Astrid weren’t like that? God, for Lukas’ sake, he hoped that was the case. Despite, well, whatever the fuck was up with him, he… Mads didn’t want him to be hurt. Couldn’t let him be hurt. Couldn’t let some newcomer take his happiness away.

Was he happy? He must be, right? Why wouldn’t he be? He had a girlfriend, friends, a place of his own, away from all the troubles that had plagued him for so long. Away from… Mads, too, and surely that had to bring him happiness, because why else? But he didn’t  _ look _ happy. Even Gil had said it. The few times Matthias had caught him around the town, he always looked so sorrowful, moping on street corners and sulking his way through the record shop - even before Mads tried to run up to him, turning on his brightest smile, and Lukas would just sigh and turn away, shuffling off down the corridor with that cold, tight frown and that empty, hollow look in his eyes. It made his heart hurt to think his friend was in need and there was nothing he could do to help.

He thought back to the party, to those few precious minutes on the balcony. Lukas never cried. Not in public. Not like that. What had changed? What was troubling him so much he felt like he had to push Matthias away? For his “own good”?

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Lukas was happy!

_ Ah, fuck it. _ Matthias had never been a good liar. God, he needed another drink.

As he walked over to the kitchen, he heard a couple voices heading along the corridor. A key turned in the lock and Eiríkur stepped through the door, closely followed by - what the fuck was that? It looked like a mountain of multicoloured teddies on legs. When Eiki pressed a kiss to its cheek, he realised that yes, Leon was under there somewhere. Eiki giggled, the now-unfamiliar sound bringing back memories of the childish games they used to play in Astrid’s garden, laughing and dancing in the summer rain. At least  _ one _ of them still remembered that feeling. 

Gil looked up from the sofa. “What the fuck is that?”

The giggles stopped. 

Eiki stared at him like a deer in headlights, his hand dropping from Leon’s. There was a second of silence before Leon offered an answer. “Uh… Care Bears?” 

Gil stared. Mads stared. Eiki stared. Leon didn’t stare, because the bears chose that moment to fall to the ground like a rainbow avalanche. 

“Huh. Nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> care bears are and should be emotionally important to everyone


	7. Chapter 7

Lukas stared at the ceiling. It was becoming a hobby at this point. Next to him on the sofa, Astrid was sipping at her coffee, her nose stuck in a book on German design innovations. It was silent, the kind of silence that used to be comfortable, but now… Now it stretched out forever, every sniff and turn of the page echoing in the empty room. Hollow. He was probably overthinking, though, right?

There were a million things he should be doing. His essays, for one. Helping Alin write up a D&D campaign for the group at the game shop. He’d promised Linnea he’d teach her how to roller skate, too - just like Mads and Astrid had taught him, huh. But he was frozen, stuck to the cushions. Scared to make a move, scared that every noise, every slight shift in his position could break the fragile glass of… well, them. 

It wasn’t Astrid’s fault. He knew that for sure. She was nothing but kind, caring, loving.  _ ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ _ might have been a cliché, but clichés existed for a reason. Because it was him. Because as much as Lukas tried, he  _ couldn’t  _ love her.

He’d tried, of course he’d tried. Flowers and candlelit dinners and long walks in the park and all that. And he did love her in a way. But not like  _ that _ . He loved her like family, like the sister he’d never had. Not like… Matthias.

He saw that now, as she sat next to him in the silence, so close but so far, the minutes stretched out into miles. He saw that now, as he remembered the way she’d looked at Gilbert and the way he’d look back at her, a joy in his eyes that Lukas couldn’t describe. He wasn’t even sure he knew what it felt like. He saw that now, as he laid numb and cold in the living room, no music, no laughter. Empty. After all she’d done, all she’d been in his life, Astrid deserved better. She deserved someone who could love her properly, who could make her truly happy. She deserved a better friend, because Lukas had really let her down on both fronts, hadn’t he. She deserved that post-grad course in Germany, at the school she’d always dreamed of. The one she’d talked about even when they were kids. And if that meant moving across the continent with someone else, she deserved that too.

Lukas sighed and leant up on his elbows.

Astrid echoed him. Putting down her book, she smiled softly - the sort of smile Lukas remembered his mother always doing before she had to deliver bad news. His breath caught in his throat.

“Do you ever wonder what the future will look like?”

“What d’you mean?” He didn’t, really. Spent too much time thinking about the now. He’d get a job, probably. Something boring. Find a house. Maybe a fam- no, that wouldn’t work. All his dreams of the future had Matthias in them somewhere, but he couldn’t very well tell Astrid that. He could barely tell himself. “No, s’pose not. Why?”

Astrid hummed, looking fondly at her book cover. “There’s this design school in West Germany… it’s not very prestigious - it’s relatively obscure and generic - but…”

“-You love the area and the way they do things, even if it’s not some great definitive style, and the design culture nearby, though completely unconnected to the school, inspires you.” Lukas nodded, swinging his legs round. “You’ve said. You’re applying, then?”

Astrid hesitated. “Yes, I am.”

Lukas nodded again. Bringing it up so  _ seriously _ like this made it sound like a new idea, like she expected him to say no. Like it hadn’t been pretty much decided since she was twelve that that was what she wanted to do with her life. It made Lukas wonder if there was something deeper.

“It’s a long way,” she said. 

“But it’s what you’ve always wanted, and it’s a great opportunity. You should go for it.” He looked at her grim expression, trying to puzzle out what she was getting at. “I’m sure you’ll settle in fine. If it’s language barriers you’re worried about, I’m sure Gil can teach you enough to get by. He likes you enough, he might even do it for free.”

The joke wasn’t funny in the slightest, but when Astrid’s lips didn’t quirk up in their usual exasperation, Lukas started to frown. “That’s the thing,” she said. She stared at the dull, off-white walls of the living room, watching raindrops trickle down smog-stained windows. “You… don’t seem to think it’s a problem.” 

“Why should it be?” Her dream course, a foot into the industry, a chance to see the world - it sounded perfect. "What's wrong?" 

Astrid folded her arms as she turned to look at him. “Lukas, I’m meant to be your  _ girlfriend _ and you don’t care that I could be moving halfway across the continent.” Her fists clenched and she looked down, her fringe falling over her glasses. "I know you do care, really. I know you just have a hard time showing your feelings. But you…" 

She trailed off. Astrid wasn't a crier. She never had been. She didn't need to be - somehow, seeing her try to hold it in was worse. "You always seem so unenthusiastic, Lukas. It's not that you do anything wrong. You're a great boyfriend. But you're always somewhere else, off in that pretty head of yours." 

Ignoring the teardrops pooling on the inside of her lenses, she sank back into the sofa. "Germany's a long way," she said. "And I'm worried we won't make it long distance. I can see you're unhappy, Lukas. And I'd rather you said something now. What's wrong?" 

Ah _. Well, there it is _ . He should've seen it coming, really. He stopped himself from letting out a groan, staring pointedly at the carpet, which rudely refused to swallow him whole. His heart sank. 

"I…" To say it was nothing would be a lie and he couldn't betray her like that. Hell, he'd abused her trust enough as it was. Not like she'd believe him anyway. But he couldn't tell the truth either - that he was… he… his feelings toward Matthias. For both of their sakes. For all of their sakes, Matthias’s too. His jaw clenched and his throat dried up, held so tight he didn't think he could force the words out even if he had to. 

"I… can't explain," he tried. His heart was beating so fast, he could hear it echoing in his skull, feel the pangs of an approaching migrane. "But it's not about… It's about me, I suppose. Things about me that've been botherin' me." His throat burned. Stomach dropped. Falling, everything was falling, crumbling down like the rug had been pulled out from under the world. Collapsing around him all at once. The echoes filled his head, a cacophony of catastrophe, so loud and so busy but so devoid of life, devoid of feeling, devoid of anything that felt real. A pathetic attempt at emotion from a man who could do nothing but destroy them.

"So it's not about us?" A voice once comforting, now accusing, prying, scraping like nails on the chalkboard, scratching far too close to that raw, fresh wound. Still comforting. Still clawing at his throat. Astrid reached toward him, but Lukas flinched away. 

Gritted teeth. He put a hand to his temples. "Not… exactly, no." God, his head was pounding. He stood up, his legs jelly under him. He felt sick. This was it, this was it, a single wrong move and she'd know it all. His head spun, his whole body wobbling on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the one false step to sending him  _ falling _ , plummeting over the edge. He  _ couldn't _ . Astrid was gonna find out, she could guess it, she knew already, she was gonna tell everyone, she- 

Breaths short and panicked. Head throbbing in time with his heart, hammering against his chest. Gonna collapse. Gonna collapse. Gonna collapse. Echoing and rushing and  _ spinning _ , everything spinning, too warm, the heat boiling against the frigid glass, distorting his balance as the blood hammered in his ears. He had to get out. Needed to get out. Now, now, now. 

Astrid stared blankly as he stumbled to the door, said nothing as he kicked on his shoes, her eyebrows knitted. She stood up as if she wanted to stop him, but her movement was too hesitant, too slow. 

"I'm sorry." 

The rain outside was cold, but a gracious relief from the heavy, scalding feeling inside him. Grey coats and grey umbrellas walking up grey pavements to grey doors in tall, grey buildings. A comforting monotony - no room for feelings in the harsh, empty grey of the city. Lukas let his feet carry him, wishing he could run dramatically off into the countryside like he had so often when he was younger.

If only he could rip his feelings away just as easily. If only he could've found a way to shut it out back when those first  _ thoughts _ started intruding into his life. He was a disgrace, look at him. Selfish. Astrid  _ cared,  _ she'd always cared so much and he'd thrown it away for an impossible fantasy of another man, someone who he knew would never love him back. 

The lashing rain was cool against his skin and he could feel the rush begin to subside, his head starting to clear. Ignoring the water soaking through his clothes, he slumped down on a nearby bench. Stared blankly out at the street. Somewhere up above, Astrid was probably stood at the window, wondering if she should come out and get him. She’d get halfway to the door before deciding it was a bad idea and then turn back. She’d leave before Alin got in from his shift, her path home taking her in the opposite direction to where Lukas now sat. Deep down, he knew he’d have to call her at some point.

For now, he could just sit and enjoy the rain, no need to worry about the world around him. He closed his eyes, breathing in the non-smell of the wet tarmac, silently shivering as the drops fell. It was fresh and soft and clean, a clean slate to start anew. 

Lost in the catharsis, he barely even noticed the people walking past until one sat down next to him and put an arm across his shoulders.

Somehow, he didn’t flinch when a hand reached up to wipe his face, though whether it was drying tears or just the rain he couldn’t tell. He stared at nothing, his eyes refusing to focus. Everything felt surreal, but at least this was weird in a comforting way. They were talking to him, he thought. He could hear the sounds, but not the words. 

As they pulled him closer, he caught the scent of old leather and sandalwood - it felt so familiar, but he couldn’t place it, like an old memory buried so deep it was nearly forgotten. It was comforting, anyway. He wondered why he hadn’t run, hadn’t told whoever this person was to fuck off and get their hands off him, but… No. For some reason, he trusted them, and they hadn’t done anything to hurt him. So he let himself relax into the hug - this was a hug, yes? - the soft denim of their jacket surprisingly warm against his cheek.

“Come on,” they said, in a voice that was far too familiar. A voice he hadn’t heard in so long, a voice he’d been both dying to hear and desperate to avoid. “Come on. Let’s get ya out of the rain.”

\---

The café was mostly empty, the radio and the background chatter of its few customers merging into a gentle hubbub. Quiet enough to leave room to breathe, busy enough not to feel exposed. Lukas stared at his coffee, not quite sure of what to say. He'd tried to pay for it, but Mads had pushed his hand away. Insisted it was on him. He'd never been one to back down on that front. 

So there he was. Matthias himself. So close, so unbelievably close. Lukas could reach out and touch him - already had, he'd practically been carried off the street. He sat in silence, just taking it all in. 

"Long time no see," Mads said. He rested his face on his arms, laying almost flat on the table, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm like a beating heart. He reached an arm out toward Lukas, still tapping. Never could sit still, huh. "What's wrong, Lulu? You looked like you were about ta catch yer death out there. Did something happen?”

He looked up at Lukas, his unruly hair damp and curly from the rain. The soft smile on his lips clashed with the worried downturn of his eyebrows - messy as ever: was every part of him that spiky? No, Lukas decided. His hands were soft, and his jacket and chest as he’d held Lukas against him. Made him wonder if his lips were too… Lukas scowled. 

Mads raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. You don’t havta tell me if you don’t want.” He shrugged, letting out a sigh as he brushed Lukas’ wet hair out of his eyes. “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay, ya know? I missed you, buddy.”

“I missed you too.” It came out way too fast, before Lukas had the chance to stop himself. Well. It wasn’t wrong. God, he’d spent so long lying to himself, it felt good to tell the truth for once.

Lying to himself. Lying to Mads.  _ ‘It’s for your own good’ _ , he’d said. But was it, really? Mads didn’t know he was… Didn’t know how he felt. Didn’t need to. All he knew was that Lukas was a shitty friend who’d abandoned him out of nowhere. It wasn’t for Mads’ sake, not really. It was for his sake, because he was too much of a coward to own up to who he was. Because it was easier to lie to himself than face the truth.

“I… got into an argument with Astrid,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, not technically. He sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, staring straight at the table. Eye contact felt… intense. “She thinks I don’t love her.”

“Do you?” Mads propped himself up on his elbows, looking up with those big blue eyes, and Lukas knew he had to tell the truth. Even if he could bring himself to lie, Mads would see right through it. A part of him was surprised to still see that glint of a deeper understanding shining in his friends eyes, but deep down, he had the feeling it could never really fade. Even after all this time, Mads still knew him better than he knew himself.

“I don’t know.” He pretended not to notice as a hand inched across the table and slowly cradled his, the palms worn but soothing, fingers interlocking. He pretended not to notice the warmth rising inside him as they touched, his face heating up. Were humans meant to feel that fuzzy? He pretended not to notice his heart skipping a beat as Mads looked at him, held his hand, waited for him to feel safe, every action radiating a genuine warmth and God, he’d missed it so much.

Taking a deep breath, he looked away and tried to remember the question. “I do love her. I think. But not in the way I should do.”

Mads hummed. “Like a sister, then? A friend?”

Lukas nodded. “I’ve let her down, I know.”

“Nah,” said Mads, the shrug of his shoulders almost jarringly nonchalant. “You can’t help it, Lu. Can’t force yerself to be in love with someone.” He wrapped his fingers - still red from the cold - around his mug. “You should tell her, though. She’d understand. It… Ah, it’d probably hurt more the more you drag it out, ya know? You gotta be honest with her.”

_ Mm. _ Lukas nodded again, Mads’ words swimming round his brain.  _ Can’t force yourself to be in love with someone. _ Couldn’t force yourself not to be, either, probably. Just his luck. He couldn’t fight it then, that feeling that kept him up at night, that had drawn him back to Mads even though he was so afraid of what it meant, the feeling that made him so frightened of losing it all but almost, surely, had to be worth it. 

He almost said it then, almost confessed to it. Almost told Mads who he  _ was _ in love with, really. He stopped himself just in time. Too perfect a moment to ruin. 

Instead, he smiled softly, the first real smile in… God, far, far too long. The echo of the autumn drizzle was calming now, soft and quiet, almost drowned out by the tinny sound of Madonna drifting through the air. Mads smiled back at him, his eyes flitting over to the old speaker on the countertop, undoubtedly judging the music choice. Though, on second thoughts, Lukas wouldn’t put it past him to secretly be into it. Dork.

“Your hair’s getting long,” he noted, desperate for some excuse for conversation. It suited him, actually. More than Lukas would’ve expected. “Better not be growing a mullet.”

Mads laughed, stroking his hand through it. Water droplets splattered onto the table. “Been tryin’ not to. Can’t find a decent barber. They don’t seem to like my spikes.”

“I thought big hair was ‘in’.” 

“Not for me, apparently.” 

“That’s rude of them.” He tried to imagine Mads with his untameable mess finally lopped off. Ew. No, that’d just be wrong. The mess had always been part of him. “Alin could probably do it for you if you asked nicely enough.”

“Alin? What, your vampire roommate?”

Lukas snorted. “He’s not a vampire. Or at least…” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s what he says. But yeah, he does mine. Used to help his mum do it back in Romania or something.”

“Huh,” said Mads. He looked at Lukas, judging his haircut, and Lukas couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. Usually, he couldn’t care less about his appearance, but the idea of Mads not liking his style was… terrifying. 

He nodded. “Nice. Might take you up on that one. What’s his number?”

Lukas breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have passed the test. “The same as mine, idiot. We literally live in the same house.”

“How come  _ he _ never answered my calls then?”

Ah. Lukas froze, scrambling for something to say.  _ ‘I intercepted him the second I saw your number’ _ didn’t exactly feel like a good excuse - or an appropriate use of the new caller ID feature Arthur had got for their phone. “He doesn’t answer the phone much. Not sure he even hears it ring half the time. Usually too stuck in what he’s doing.”

“That’s fair,” said Mads. He was talking less than normal, trailing off into uncharacteristic silences, and Lukas wondered whether it was just the conversation topic or a lingering awkwardness from the months of no contact. He couldn’t blame him either way.

“How’s my brother?” he asked.

The question seemed to catch him off guard. “Who, Eiki?”

“Well… I don’t exactly have any others.” Lukas shrugged. “You see him more than I do.”

“Yeah, he’s good.” Mads nodded. “Weird as ever. He has a friend now, that’s cool.”

_ I should hope so, _ Lukas almost retorted, but something about the way Mads said ‘friend’ felt different. A weird emphasis, if he had to put a finger on it. He raised an eyebrow. “What sort of friend?”

“A friend friend,” Mads said, helpfully. “His name’s Leon. He’s a good kid. Good for Eiríkur. Gotten him out of his shell a bit, ya know?” He seemed to think for a second before shrugging and taking a sip of his coffee. “Oh, yeah. Don’t suppose you have any need for a Care Bear, do you? Or ten.”

“Why would I need a Care Bear?” Lukas was too surprised by the question to think too hard about this new Leon kid. If his brother was happy, that was okay, he supposed. 

Pulling a face, he shrugged again. “‘Cause we don’t, I guess? We’ve got, like, fifty of them left. Leon took as many as he could but they’ve stolen the sofa.”

“How?” It was less a question, more a statement of disbelief. “Where did you even-”

Mads grinned. “Apparently your baby brother is a claw machine  _ god. _ ” Not really paying attention, he swirled his coffee around the bottom of his mug. “He misses you, you know. And he’s sorry about - well, probably best to let him say it himself. He just doesn’t know how to talk to you.”

Lukas sighed. “I have a phone, he knows that.”

“That you don’t answer,” Mads reminded him.

That was fair. Lukas finished his coffee, leaning back to smile at Mads. It really had been too long. “Maybe I’ll have to come round then. Tell him to save me one of the grumpy ones.”

“It’d be nice to see you again. Come round on Sunday if you want, I haven’t got anything on.” Mads checked the time on his watch. His face fell. “Shit. Got a class now though.” He scrambled to pull his rucksack onto his shoulders as he stood up, wiping his drying hair from his face. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” said Lukas, and, for once, he thought he might actually mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... they finally talk. i hope the last six chapters were somewhat worth it, i was Nervous about writing this in case i havent done it Justice,, 
> 
> also! just a quick note before the next chapter - i've changed how i shorten eiríkur's name from eirí (which i just came up with on the spot bc i couldn't be bothered to keep writing out eiríkur) to eiki, an actual icelandic shortening. i've been puzzling that one out for a while, but i've decided that, yeah, it's worth going back and changing it, so that should get done soon. i'm not sure why i'm bringing this up now bc he's not even in this chapter, but there you go. im sorry this took so long! back to school an all that, you know??


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I mentioned at the end of the last chapter, I've changed the shortening of Eiríkur's name from Eirí to Eiki for Accuracy Reasons!! There's also the logic behind Leon's family's names in the end note

Eiríkur couldn't decide whether the invention of the metro system was a blessing or a curse. Being pressed with a hundred tourists into a tin can sixty feet underground was not doing much for his nerves. His brain rattled with every turn, bouncing around in his skull like the world's most anxious maraca. 

His outfit was… presentable enough, hopefully. He'd swapped the band shirt and denim jacket for a black short sleeved shirt and his best trousers - not that formal, but not exactly informal either. It was a weird look on him but, hey, student on a budget and short notice. It was the best he could do. Just had to hope it was good enough. 

He didn't know why he was stressing, not really. As far as the Wongs knew, he was just Leon's friend from uni, nothing more. Impressing them was hardly necessary. Anyway, Leon was a legal adult - what could their opinions do? 

He repeated that thought to himself as he stepped onto the platform. Chanted it silently as he fought his way up to the street. A private mantra.  _ There's nothing to be scared of.  _

The Wongs lived on the edge of the city centre - far enough out that real estate was pricy but not extortionate, but too far in to fall into the suburbs. The flat occupied the top two floors of an old bakery, now a general corner shop, along what looked like it once could've been the main road of a town long since absorbed by the sprawl of urban development. 

Following Leon's directions up the stairs, Eiríkur took a deep breath, steeling himself.  _ Come on, you can do it. There’s nothing to be afraid of.  _ He lifted his hand to the doorbell.  _ Ding, dong. _

After a short commotion on the other side, the door swung open. Leon shouted something in a language Eiríkur couldn’t understand - probably some sort of Chinese - to a figure disappearing into the next room, then turned to him, sighing dramatically. “Hi! Come in. Don’t mind the mess.”

“What mess? I live with Mads.” 

“See! Told you!” Leon yelled over his shoulder. “Sorry. Alice was getting on my ass again. Apparently it’s a pigsty in here.” He gestured to a rack beside the door. “Shoes off or she’ll kill us both.”

“Alice… Your step-mum, right?” He recognised the name vaguely from Leon’s anecdotes. The line between family and neighbour wore very thin where Leon was concerned, he’d learnt. He kicked his shoes off anyway, placing them on the rack. “God, I hope she never has to see my place.”

“She’d have a heart attack,” Leon agreed. “But I like your flat. It’s cosy.”

He shrugged, suddenly remembering what he’d brought with him. He held it up. “Oh, yeah. Brought these.”

“Ooh, what’re those?” Raising his eyebrows, Leon peered into the bag. “Cinnamon buns!” He took them from him, holding the bag to his face to smell them. “I would die for you.”

Eiki grinned. “It’s Mads you should be thanking, he made them.”   
  


“I… might die for him too, then,” Leon decided. “In an appropriate situation.” A quick shout rang out behind the door at the end of the hall. “Ah, you should probably come on through.”

Smoke billowed from the kitchen, filling the air with the unmistakable stench of burning. The incessant beep of the alarm was deafening. Eiríkur clamped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise. Stinging tears raced down his cheeks as he burst into a spluttering cough.

Barely a shrug from the man across the room. “Ugh, Ka Lung, turn the alarm off.” 

Something pushed him to the side. The beeping stopped. 

The remnants of smoke drifted around the kitchen. Sighing, the woman - Alice, Eiríkur assumed - dropped the charred pan on the sideboard, shards of charcoal skittering along the counter.

As she wiped her hands on her apron, Eiki realised that the dark grey cotton had once been a shade of pale pink. “No parsnips today, then.”

Coughing, he wiped his eyes. The kitchen was still, the last puffs of smoke drifting out the open window.

The man across the room spoke up. “I  _ told _ you to put the timer on.”

Leon groaned. From the way he’d reacted, this seemed… a pretty regular occurrence.  _ And he teases  _ me _ about being bad at cooking, huh?  _ Eiki wiped the last grains of soot from his clothes and hovered awkwardly near the door, still unsure if Leon’s family had even noticed him.

“Hi,” he tried.

It seemed to work. 

“Oh, hi, sweetie! Sorry about that. I was hoping I’d get them right today, but I guess there’s always next time.” 

“And the time after that,” Leon muttered.”And the time after that. And the-”

Alice shot him a glare. “Here, come through, sit down. Yao-” She turned to the other man, sighing. “He’s not still working, is he? I told him to…” She shook her head. “Never mind. He’ll be down in a minute, I’m sure.”

The man shrugged, stealing a piece of carrot from the pan. “Hey. I like your shirt.”

Alice grunted, swatting his hand away. “Go on, out, both of you. Go bother your sister.”

“Come on, before she sets us on fire too.” Leon grinned, nicking another slice of carrot. “Eiki, this is my brother. Hou Keang, this is Eiki.” 

Now he looked closer - without all the smoke blurring his vision - the resemblance between them was obvious. Leon’s description of  _ ‘he looks like me but a nerd’ _ made perfect sense. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Hou Keang smiled and pressed a carrot into his palm. 

“ _ Stop stealing my carrots! _ ”

\---

Dinner was, surprisingly, not all that burnt. Sure, the broccoli was a bit brown and the parsnips were a write-off but potatoes, Eiríkur decided, were just  _ meant _ to be that colour. Leon didn’t know what he was talking about.

Leon’s dad had finally come down about an hour later, giving Eiríkur enough time to get his ass thoroughly kicked by all three Wong siblings on their new NES. Turned out, Donkey Kong just  _ really  _ wasn’t his forté. 

“It’s like Kryptonite,” Leon said. “Mine’s claw machines. Yours is Donkey Kong.”

Eiki smiled. “We balance each other out. Keep each other humble, you know? Hubris is a fatal flaw.”

“What the” - He caught himself as Alice narrowed her eyes - “heck is a hubris? Sounds like a disease.” Leon stabbed his fork into his potato, laughing. “You’re such a literature student.”

“What the heck is a ‘shot composition’?” Eiki countered. “You’re such a film student. And anyway, that’s not a literature student thing. That’s in  _ all _ the Greek myths.”

“Believe it or not,” Leon pointed out, “we don’t use the same words in Cantonese.”

Hiau Sun - Leon’s half-sister - sighed, leaning forward with her head in her elbows. “You bicker like an old married couple all afternoon. It’s cute.”

“And what’s not cute is elbows on the table, young lady. Come on, we have guests.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting her arms. Another withering look from Alice stopped Eiki from jumping to her defence. He hastily removed his own elbows from the table. Maybe Leon had been right about his step-mum.  _ Come on! It’s the 1980s, not the 1880s. _

Either way, best not to push it. He straightened up -  _ ha, yeah right _ \- and brushed his hair from his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Leon reached under the table to squeeze his knee reassuringly.  _ “You’re doing great,” _ he mouthed. 

Yao cleared his throat, looking nervously at his wife. “So, Eiríkur. What are you hoping to do when you leave university?”

Hou Keang frowned. “What can you do with a literature degree?”

Oh no.  _ That _ question. They stared at him, waiting for a reply, and he could almost  _ feel _ his thoughts slowing. Saying he didn’t know would be embarrassing - it’d make him look like he was going nowhere with his life. And he’d tried so hard to make a good impression.

“Journalism, right?” Leon suggested.

Eiki finally remembered how to breathe. “Journalism, yeah. That… That works.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Hiau Sun bounced a little in her chair. “I’ve got a place at a fashion magazine for next autumn, I can put in a word for you!”

“I’m not sure Eiríkur’s interested in fashion,” Hou Keang pointed out.

“Why not?” Leon grinned. “Apart from his world record ugly jumper collection, that is.”

“Hey, they’re  _ comfortable _ .” Laughing, Eiki stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. "And it's a  _ traditional _ ugly jumper collection." 

“I think that's cute.” Hiau Sun clapped her hands together. “Oh! Eiríkur! Have you read that new book?”

They seemed so comfortable together, the three of them. A long, long way from the strained tension of his relationship with his own brother. How long had it been since he’d been able to joke with Lukas like this?

As they chattered on, the conversation shifted to roommates and dorm life. Hiau Sun, it turned out, had shared not only a dorm building but also an art class with Matthias in their first year, and had more than enough stories of his truly  _ genius _ ideas. Though she joked about such brilliant moments as “that time his friends covered an entire corridor in shaving cream” and “that time the American guy set off the fire alarm three nights in a row trying to make smores with his radiator”, she did seem a bit too unironically fond of the Lego shoes he’d made as an excuse to dick around in his classes.

Giggling, she pushed a book across the table. “Here, we used them in a shoot for my photography project.”

The photos, Eiríkur admitted, were impressive. The angles, the lighting… They looked like something out of  _ Vogue _ , just in the skill alone.

Leon grinned over his shoulder. “You should see the serious ones.”

He put the book down, dumbfounded. “Fu- Flipping heck,” he said, with a small glance to Alice. “Those are amazing.”

“We keep telling her she’s got a talent.” Ho Kang smiled. “She never seems to believe us.”

Hiau Sun sighed. “Talent only gets you so far. It’s about who you know, which… not many people, for me. I don’t think knowing Matthias is gonna get me a career.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Leon said. “Maybe at Lego.”

She laughed, closing her portfolio. “Mm, maybe. Well, at least it’s more exciting than what  _ he _ does.”

Hou Keang grunted as if it was a joke he’d heard a million times before. He played along anyway. “What’s so wrong with studying business?”

Eiki muffled his laughter in his drink.  _ Ah, the worst possible question to ask a group of arts and humanities students. _ He looked at Hiau Sun. He looked at Leon, who raised an eyebrow, grinning. They both looked at him, and then at Hou Keang as they replied in unison. “Everything.”

“Come on, you should know that by now.”

Yao sighed, trying to hide the laughter on his face. "Stop bullying your brother." 

The rest of the meal passed in a pleasant conversation - a few teasing jokes here and there, seemingly innocent comments followed by flirtatious winks as soon as Leon’s parents looked away. His siblings didn’t seem to mind, making offhand references like it was any other relationship. Which was good, he guessed. Incredible even. But…  _ ah, how to put it _ . It was… surprising.

He asked Leon about it as he walked him back to the metro station.

“Huh,” Leon said. “Guess I never thought about it. Never really felt like they’d have a problem with it, you know? They always seemed to know. Even before I did.”

The soft rush of passing traffic filled the chilled night with a gentle hum. Nearby, the trees of the park glistened orange and gold in the faint streetlights. Smog hung in the air, but its stench was beaten out by the rows of kebab stands and doughnut stalls lining the pavements. Leon paused his response as Eiki stopped at the nearest one.

“Two chocolate and raspberry, please.”

“How’d you know these were my favourite?”

Turning away from the busy market streets, they walked hand in hand down the path, feet kicking at the fallen leaves. It was quieter here; calm and free, the whole city wide and open in front of them, in the sort of way that made you feel unstoppable. So many people going about their lives around them - who would notice another two faces on the pavement below? His brother used to tell him that he could be whatever he wanted, if he put his mind to it. Right here, right now, that didn’t seem so hard at all.

Eiki shrugged. “Remembered you ordering it last time.”

“You’ve got a good memory,” Leon said, impressed. He caught a falling sprinkle in his free hand.

“It’s nothing,” he said. Why shouldn’t he remember? It was the little things like that that gave life meaning. Showed you cared, showed you remembered what was important to those around you.

Partly out of curiosity, partly to stop himself before he found himself as a philosophy student, Eiki pushed him on. “Why do you think that is? With your siblings and all that.”

It was Leon’s turn to shrug. “Guess I never knew to hide it as a kid. I told Mum when I was thirteen or so, though she probably knew even before I did. There was this story she told me...”

He trailed off, his face falling into the same melancholy expression he always wore when he talked about his mother.

“It’s okay,” Eiki said. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Leon shook his head. He smiled wistfully. “Nah, it’s fine. I wanna share things like that with you, puffin, you know that.” 

Eiki smiled back, threading Leon's fingers through his. "What sort of story?" 

"An old one," Leon said. "Like, really old. Older than your weird books." 

"That's not as hard as you assume." 

"That's fair." He sighed, staring off down the street. Lights from far-up windows danced across his face. Gentle and warm. "There was an emperor of China," he started. There was a pause as he struggled for the next sentence.

"Several, I've heard." 

"Oh, shut up." It did the trick. "One in particular. He had a lover."

"Oh, a  _ lover. _ " Eiríkur nodded. He knew how that worked. It was all over his literature textbooks. Men who never had a girlfriend, nor a wife. Always a  _ lover _ . Maybe that's what he'd be one day, when Leon was a famous film director. An unnamed, ungendered  _ lover _ in the textbooks. 

"A male lover," he continued. 

Oh. Well,  _ that  _ was different. Eiki raised an eyebrow. "Wait, really?" 

"I was surprised too." Leon pulled him closer, leaning his head on his shoulder. "I guess it wasn't weird back then. They were sleeping, and was laying on the emperor's sleeve when he had to get up. But he didn't wanna wake him up, so he just cut his sleeve off."

Wrapping his arm around his boyfriend's waist, Eiki looked down at him. "That's dedication." He ran his fingers through Leon's hair. "I'd cut my sleeve off for you," he decided. 

Leon snorted. "You'd push me off the bed." 

"Ok, true." For a start, he doubted he'd have a knife so conveniently to hand. And his sleeves were definitely smaller, if the lavish robes in the museum exhibits Leon had taken him to were anything to go by. "But, like, you know. In theory. I'd sacrifice a sleeve for you." 

"I'd sacrifice a sleeve for you too." 

It took a moment for Eiríkur to figure out his expression. His smile was subdued, his eyebrows sloped in a gentle frown. As they approached the crowd of the station, he pulled away, sighing at the ground.

“You must miss her a lot.”

Leon nodded. “I wish you could’ve met her.”

Sat alone on the train home, Eiki’s thoughts turned to his own family. A family he’d always taken for granted, and now they were scattered, lost to his own stupidity. To his own idiotic choices, nothing more. It wasn’t too late to make amends. 

By the time the doors opened onto the platform, his resolution was clear. He just had to hope Lukas would answer his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To explain Leon's family and their names a bit, because trying to fit so many characters from different places into one human AU is hard:  
> \- Yao is the same Yao we all know, he's from mainland China and his native language is Mandarin  
> \- Leon (Ka Lung) is his youngest son. His mother was from Hong Kong and he prefer Cantonese, her native language, hence why his name is Ka Lung, not Jia Long  
> \- Hou Keang is Leon's full brother, but his name is anglicised slightly differently just because That's How It Is In Macau and this is a vague hetalia au so it doesn't really matter. Also, since this is the 80s, it may well be a better reflection of how Cantonese names were transliterated at the time  
> \- Thank you to Vulpes for HK and Macau's Chinese names  
> \- Hiau Sun is, according to Jade, the Taiwanese Hokkien version of Xiao Chun, the name she personally gave to Taiwan. She knows a hell of a lot more about Taiwan as a place than I do, so I'm just trusting her naming advice on this one. Hiau Sun is Leon's half-sister; her mum was from Taiwan
> 
> If you can see any glaring holes in this, please, please tell me so I can fix it!! Thank you so much for reading this fic, I appreciate it a lot. See you next chapter!!


	9. Chapter 9

The door creaked open. Both of them looked up. Of course they did. It was hard to ignore a sound like that when it hadn’t been heard for days. He clenched his fists, curling his fingers up and squeezing them as tight as he could bear. _Deep breaths. One, two, three. One, two three_.

His face felt clammy, the space under his eyes dark and hollow. Stray hairs clung to his cheeks, plastered in place by drying tears. He was a mess, he knew it. But that was why he had to do it. He couldn’t hide anymore behind walls of blank, emotionless slate. His hand gripped the handle as he contemplated just turning around and slamming the door. No. No, he could do it. _Deep breaths._ _Deep breaths._

“Alin,” he started. His voice was barely recognisable. “I… I need to speak to you.”

Alin raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance at Arthur as they both began to rise from their seats.

“Alone.”

Arthur grunted and threw himself back down. They ignored him. He could do it. Alin… would understand, right? He’d know what to do. Or at least, he’d know more than Lukas did.

“So…” Alin gestured vaguely. “What’s up?” He sat on the end of Lukas’ bed, watching as the door softly closed itself. “Is this about the other day?”

“Mhm,” said Lukas. He tried to speak, but the sound wouldn’t come out. His mind was racing but his body felt so slow, so uncooperative, like it was trying to hold him back and stop him from ruining everything. Maybe it was right. Maybe this would make things worse.

_You can tell us anything_. That’s what Alin had told him. So he had to try. As skilled as he was at bottling everything up, this… it needed to come out.

Alin frowned. “What _happened_ , Lu? We got a call from Astrid, she says-”

“I’ve let her down,” Lukas said. His voice was small, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m sure you haven’t.” Alin picked up the pink bunny from the end of the bed - a comfort Lukas wouldn’t be caught dead with by anyone but his closest friends. “She cares a lot about you, Lu. She just wants to know you’re happy.”

“That’s why.” Lukas took the bunny from him, hugging it close to his chest. “I…” The words were stuck in his throat. Alin didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. He only had half the story. But the words wouldn’t come, wouldn’t tell him the rest. Why wouldn’t they work? _Deep breaths. Deep breaths._ Something short, easier to get out. Something important enough to tell him without telling him. A name. That name. “Mads.”

“Mads,” Alin echoed. “What about him?”

Lukas stared at the floor.

“Did you see him?” 

A nod. He could manage that.

“Good or bad?”

“Good.” Too good. God, how was he going to - 

“Ah,” Alin said. “I see.”

They sat in silence for a second, staring at each other. Lukas' gaze fell on Alin's hands, unable to meet his eyes. This had been a stupid decision, he knew it. He shouldn't've expected Alin to know what he was trying to say. Shouldn't've assumed he'd understand. Shouldn't've - 

"So I was right?" 

Lukas looked up. "About what?" His throat was tight, his voice tenser. 

Alin smiled, flopping back onto the bed with a grin. "You're -" he pointed, as if it was even necessary "- in love with your best friend and you don’t know what to do about it." 

Sighing, Lukas buried his face in his knees. He groaned. 

"Okay, okay." A dumb grin plastered on his face, Alin rolled over to face him. "Well, I always knew I was irresistible."

_What? No, no, no._

Eyebrows raised in horror, Lukas peered out over his arm. 

"That was a joke. I know you mean Mads." He sat up, laughing. "You should've seen the look on your face. No, I… You haven't told Astrid, I take it." 

“How could I?” He didn’t know how to face her. Not like that. Lukas couldn’t just look her in the eyes as he crushed all her feelings for him. He couldn’t just sit down with the woman who loved him and tell her he was in love with someone else. He couldn’t say all that and then tell her he was _in love with another man_ , of all things. Maybe that made him a coward. Maybe cowardice had always come so easy to him. Soft, safe, gentle. The tiniest of risks were too high, he had to be perfect, had to be everything his family wanted him to be. He couldn’t let everyone down like that.

"Mm," Alin said. He stared at the floor for a second, his brows furrowed. "Have you told _anyone_?" 

"Just you."

"Not even Art, huh?" 

"Well…" Lukas shrugged. "You know what he's like."

"Yeah, that's fair. He's a right dick." Raising his fingers like extra eyebrows, Alin put on his best English accent. "Well hello, I'm Arthur and I'm a bastard." 

Lukas couldn't suppress his snort despite himself. "You don't sound ancient enough." 

Laughing, Alin swung his legs. "But seriously, Lu, I don't think Art'd be a dick about this. We… kinda already guessed after all." He sighed. "There's nothing to feel guilty about. Not for this. Love is love, right? Nothing wrong with that. I'm proud of you for figurin' it out. You should be proud of yourself." 

Deep down, he knew Alin was right. His eyes flickered to the door, but his body was frozen. Unmoving. Alin’s eyes were on him, watching, waiting for his next step. _Nothing to worry about. He’s gonna be fine._

“You promise?”

\---

"How'd you even know this was here?" 

Lukas eyed Arthur suspiciously. So far, he hadn’t made a single snarky comment or derogatory joke, but how much that was a direct result of Alin's frantic elbowing wasn't a question Lukas was brave enough to ask. They stared at each other silently as Alin disappeared down the alley, his spidery legs carrying him off faster than either of them cared to compete with. 

"I have my ways," he shouted back. Lukas could only assume what came next was meant to be a wink. With another yell - _"hurry up, I'm freezing my balls off"_ \- Alin vanished again into the night. 

Arthur was still staring. 

"If you're gonna say something, do it now before I actually start letting myself give a shit." 

As he flinched, his unreadable expression shattered. "Nah, I was just thinking." 

"Didn't know you could do that." 

_Ha._ Arthur scowled. "Oh, fuck off. No, I mean…" He stared off down the alley, his eyes tracing Alin's coat as he flickered back into the streetlights. He shrugged. "You ever been here before?" 

"Why would I?" Lukas asked. To say he didn’t like clubs was an understatement. Maybe he shouldn't have let Alin talk him into it. No, Alin said it was important. It'd prove he ' _wasn't alone_ ', whatever that meant. He just needed to take a deep breath. 

Alin paused in front of an inconspicuous grey doorway, pulling a key out of his pocket. God knows where he’d gotten it from. The apprehension began to rise again in the pit of his stomach, but Lukas just clenched his fists and looked back at Arthur. Art nodded.

“It’s to stop queues, apparently,” Alin explained. “Makes people feel safer.” 

Lukas didn’t want to dwell on what that meant.

The inside of the bar was small but lively. Neon lights flashed over the crowd, illuminating every dark corner in a brief shock of blinding lights before disappearing as quickly as they came. Alin led them to the bar, weaving across the dancefloor - closer to fighting, the cramped space forcing the men to pack closer together. So close Lukas felt he could barely breathe. He winced and shook it off, taking off his coat as they approached the other side. With a nod to a table of men by the corner, Alin pulled out a barstool, beckoning Lukas to the one next to him. 

"Three beers," Alin said. "Whichever's the least shit." 

It was clearer here, at least, and between the fresher air - not that it could really be called fresh - and the cold drink, it wasn’t all that bad. If anything, it reminded him of the first club Mads had taken him to when they’d just moved to the city.

_He’d been so nervous. A country boy, never been to the big city before. He’d grown up on farmland and rural villages, vodka stolen from Mads’ or Astrid’s parents’ cupboard and replaced with water, drunk in secret in their hideout at the end of the garden. It’d long outgrown its use as a playhouse, but for three awkward teenagers, it was better than all those American parties on TV could ever be._

_In the city, there was nothing like it. No quiet, honeyed evenings, no parents with unguarded cupboards and easy-to-find keys. It was a whole different scene. The noise, the crowds, the chaos was overwhelming. He’d hesitated at the door, intimidated by the bouncer that stared down at him like he was committing a crime just by being there. But Mads had stood next to him, pulled his ID from his frozen hand and taken him in. Showed him how it worked. He’d been to the city before, visiting his cousins. Knew his way through the cacophony of the concrete jungle. And he’d always been far, far braver than Lukas ever had been._

_He hadn’t lasted long. Got overwhelmed after the first few drinks and chickened out. Gone for a walk to clear his head. But it was worth it for those few minutes with Matthias where everything felt safe and right and… home._

_If it wasn’t for that memory, Lukas didn’t think he would’ve hacked it so far from home. But Mads taught him the secrets of the neon nights, taught him to find his own solace in the gentle glow of the streetlights, taught him where to escape the smog and the rush to find a place that felt like home._

But now he was gone, and the pounding beat made Lukas’ head throb more than ever. He looked to his right and Alin was gone, his place taken by another man who winked and shouted something indecipherable to the bartender. On his left, Arthur yelled something over the music, but it just merged together with the melody before it reached his ears.

“I said, d’you wanna move away from the bar?!”

Lukas nodded. There weren’t many free tables - it was a weekend night, after all - but there was one left near the door, recently vacated by a pair of girls in platform boots he couldn’t help but envy. The scent of smoke hung low in the air, but it was better than the sweat and heat of the rest of the room. Sighing, Arthur lit a cigarette.

“Want one?”

He considered it. “No, thanks.” Somehow, he doubted it’d help his headache. His eyes scanned the crowd, but apart from the brief flash of a long coat that could’ve belonged to any edgy goth kid - and there were a _lot_ in this kinda scene, it turned out - he caught no sign of Alin.

Lukas pondered it for a moment. “How’d he know this was here?”  
  


Shrugging, Arthur dropped his lighter on the table. “Beats me,” he said. “Probably called around. Asked a weird ‘friend’ he’s spoken to once. You know what he’s like.”

_Knew a bit too well._ “How many d’you reckon he’s told, then?”

“About you?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “By name? None. By generic yet potentially identifiable story? Oh, I’d say… a couple dozen, at least.”

“So much for secrecy.” Lukas sighed, laying his head on the cold metal of the table. “You’re okay with it?”

“Lukas, no offence meant, but do you really think I’d’ve come here if I had a problem with it?”

“I s’pose not,” he admitted. 

\---

Letting Alin talk him onto the dancefloor was… a mistake. Letting Alin talk him onto the dancefloor with a strange man was… arguably worse. 

“He seems like your type,” Alin said. “Not too flashy. Not too scary. Pretty chill guy, you know? And” - his voice dropped to a whisper as he leant in, narrowing his eyes at a bewildered Arthur - “just between you and me… he’s cute as fuck.”

He wasn’t… wrong. Objectively speaking. The man - Nikolai, he said - was handsome enough, with big green eyes like nothing Lukas had ever seen. Alin had passed him off to him with a wink as he whisked Arthur away to the bar, leaving Lukas stranded in the middle of the busy dancefloor. With a stranger.

Maybe it would’ve been better if Lukas knew how to dance. Maybe if there were less people, maybe if the lights weren’t so bright and dizzying, maybe if the music blared a little further away. Maybe it would’ve been better if it was Mads here, not Nikolai, who looked at him with such a pitying smile and stared across the room like it had been Alin he was really after.

It was too loud, too hot, the reek of sweat and cigarette smoke pressing in on all sides. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to stay. Nikolai frowned and the crowd surged inward and he was _gone_ , gone and now Lukas was alone on the dancefloor. He couldn’t dance, couldn’t stand the pounding music, the disjointed laughter and shouts and _\- was that his name?_ They were laughing at _him_ , they were shouting at _him_ and he wanted to leave but he _couldn’t_ , there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Desperate to block it out, he grabbed his face in his hands. He hadn’t even noticed the tears. His breath was ragged, broken, as he stumbled off the dancefloor, grabbing at whatever he could find just to hold himself up. Everything was blurry, swimming around his head like a kaleidoscope. The light burnt his eyes as it hit them, dousing him in fires of pink and red for an awful second before it moved away, roaming over the mass of men, searching for its next victim. A hand reached out, a voice and words of consolation, but they fell on deaf ears. 

Everything was too loud and too quiet all at once, too close yet too far. A crash and a shattering of glass, and cold liquid soaked his sleeve, stinging as it seeped into a cut whose pain was too dull to register. He winced and someone rushed out, sweeping around his feet as he stood in silent shock. The bartender looked up, his brows furrowed, and his face merged into that same look of quiet disappointment. 

Letting the last shard of glass fall to the floor, Lukas backed out of the bar, not stopping until he collapsed in the alley outside.

\---

Voicemail again. Mads sighed, flopping onto his back as he let the phone fall from his grasp. No sign of Lukas again then. Just like normal.

He hugged the grumpy blue plush tight against his chest. He’d picked it out the pile himself - the neatest, brightest fur and stitching with as little of the classic arcade smell as possible. He’d spent all day waiting for that knock on the door. Maybe Jan was right. Maybe he should just give up on Lukas after all.

But… they’d talked. Lukas had talked to him, had made plans to do so again. He _knew_ Lukas, or at least he thought he did. Lukas didn’t make plans he didn’t intend on keeping.

Something was keeping him away.

He’d thought it was Astrid at first, but considering what Lukas had said before, that didn’t seem right. There was something deeper bothering him, and it was worrying. Mads had seen his friend at his worst, but this was something new. Even in his darkest hours, Lukas had never gone silent this, never seemed so personally conflicted. 

Sat there on the soaking bench, he'd looked like a character in some teenage heartbreak tragedy; platinum hair curled by the rain, his grey-blue eyes the same colour as the pavement. There was always a gentle beauty to him, hidden in the sharp lines of his face. 

Maybe approaching him had been the wrong thing to do - Lukas had already made it pretty clear he didn't want to be around him. But just seeing him again had pushed all of that out of Matthias' mind. He couldn't resist, couldn't even try. Lukas' company filled the void he hadn’t even noticed forming perfectly. 

Today could've been it. Lukas smiling and laughing right here where he belonged, telling the stories of the last four months as Mads hung on his every word. They could've shared their lives again, their thoughts, their hearts. 

But maybe he'd been wrong. Lukas didn’t want that after all. 

Matthias shoved the thought aside, scowling. If Lukas didn’t want to pick up, that was his own fault. 

With a sigh, he rolled back over and dialled a number he knew would be picked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alin is up to ur interpretation go wild
> 
> ok but genuinely ive completely forgotten what these chapter notes were gonna be


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?? updating in under a month?? no way  
> turns out eiki d o e s have a social life

“So,” Astrid said, putting her coke down on the tiles beside her.

“So,” Matthias echoed. How long had it been since they’d last properly talked? A month, perhaps, but even then it was just him asking for details on the party. Two? Three? Before the summer, even. Strange, wasn’t it, how friendships so strong could slip away so quickly.

Well, maybe not. He’d always been closer to Lukas than Astrid - as kids, they’d been prone to squabbling, trying to tear each other’s hair out the moment they were left alone for ten minutes. Lukas had been their peacemaker, the one keeping them together. Still, Mads had hoped that the decade and a half of Lukas-based alliance had made them pretty solid friends, right?

She  _ had _ gone out of her way to invite him to her party. Maybe it was his fault for not reaching out to her.

Sitting on the little balcony and looking out at the velvet twilight sky brought back memories of sweeter times. Hours spent sat on the roof of her grandparent’s farmhouse in the fields outside Gothenburg, hands warmed by mugs of hot chocolate, the two of them silent for once as Lukas traced the constellations and told them the stories of ancient heroes. Sometimes he’d catch her pouring over Lukas’ books herself, drawing the patterns of Orion and the Great Bear in her breath on the windows.

He traced them with his eyes now, smiling softly as the tales came flooding back. No hot chocolate here. Just the cold glass of the beer bottle and the chill of the tiles. With a sigh, Astrid tucked her hair behind her ear and answered the question he’d been too scared to ask.

“I don’t know.”

"I'm sorry." 

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. He's… well, you know what he's like. He's not telling me what's up." 

Mads frowned. "He said you talked-" 

Astrid cut him off. "I know," she said. "He told you what he told me. But I know it's not just that.  _ You _ know it's not just that. It can't be." 

"There's something else hanging over him," Mads agreed. Not having romantic feelings for your girlfriend didn't usually make you avoid your best friend for half a year. "Do you have any clue what?" 

Astrid shook her head again. "Whatever it is, you can see how guilty he feels." 

"He's never blown something off like that before," Mads said. 

"Really? I thought that was normal for him."

"Not for me, I guess." Mads stared at the street below, letting his toes wedge in the gap in the railing. "I thought he was over… whatever it is, 'cus he seemed happy to see me?" God, he needed a cigarette. "'Spose not." 

Astrid shrugged. "We all have our ups and downs. I haven't seen him since then either." 

So much for figuring out why Lukas had blown him off. Still, if even Astrid was as confused as him, then maybe it wasn't as bad as he'd thought. Between them, that was. Not with Lukas. 

All that stupid jealousy and she hadn't done anything. She didn't hate him, she didn't turn Lukas against him. Lukas didn’t even love her like that. For some reason, Mads found a strange satisfaction in that thought. Like a sudden wave of relief. He shrugged it off. Cruel to revel in someone else's sadness. 

He considered apologising, but Astrid spoke up before he got the chance. 

"He needs you," she said. "More than he thought. And he's ashamed." 

"Needs me for what?" 

"I don't know. But that's what it looks like to me. That's why he's blocking you out. That's why he wasn't freaking out when you talked to him. He doesn't hate you. He's just ashamed of himself for something." 

"He knows I'd never judge him for anything." 

"His brain does." Astrid sighed. "But his heart doesn't." 

Despite himself, Mads snorted. 

"What?" 

"What the fuck does that mean? Don't tell me you're getting into Linnea's weird spiritual shit now, too. Thought you said you were 'too sensible' for all that?" 

Astrid glared. "I didn't mean it like that. You know how he gets. Just because he knows you won't judge him doesn't mean he remembers. Is that better?" 

"That's better," Mads said, nodding. He took a swig of his beer. "Not that there's anything wrong with bein' spiritual," he added. "'S just weird coming from you." 

"Everything's weird coming from you, potato boy." 

\---

Eiríkur raised an eyebrow at the page in front of him. 

Being stopped on the way to class was weird enough as it was. Having a paper shoved in his face was weirder. The fact that the person shoving said paper in his face was his secret boyfriend's older brother was perhaps the weirdest of all. 

"I just thought it was a good opportunity," Hou Keang explained. "Leon said you were interested in journalism." 

Eiki peered at the tiny print.  _ 'Writers wanted. Will pay per article.'  _

"It says you can write anonymously if that's what's worrying you," he said. "Though I don't see why personally I don't see how contributing to the school's culture would be so embarrassing." 

_ Probably because you're the sort of person to refer to a school culture. _ Eiki had enough common sense not to say that one out loud. Still, the option to write anonymously was intriguing. What sort of themes could he explore there that would usually be limited by a connection to his identity? And journalism wasn't so bad. He could do with the practice. 

"I'll consider it," he said. The idea that Hou Keang had seen something and thought of  _ him _ was bizarre. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it - weirded out? Uncomfortable? But also amazed that Leon’s family seemed to have taken to him so quickly. It was… reassuring. 

Satisfied, Hou Keang nodded and patted Eiríkur on the shoulder. "I have to get to class, but it was good to see you." He handed Eiki the page. "Look after my little brother, won't you?" 

Eiki folded it into his pocket. "Always." 

\---

Why Raivis insisted on him waking up so early was beyond him. 

Okay, maybe it wasn't  _ that _ early. 8:45am, for most people, was a reasonable time to leave the house in the morning. In his father's words, he just needed to "kick his ass in gear", and the large mug of strong coffee in front of him would have him right on his way to that in no time. 

But there was early, and then there was Raivis early. Their class wasn't until 11, for fuck's sake. 

“I wanted coffee,” he said, shrugging. Eiki glared at him. 

“Can’t you get that on your own?” He rubbed his eyes again, squinting at the mug. “You don’t need me to come with you.”   
  
“It’s nice to have company.” Raivis blew on his drink, still bleary-eyed. There really was no reason for him to be up so early. “And talking is scary.”   
  
“You know, I’m not always gonna be here to order your coffee for you.” 

Raivis sighed. “I know.” 

The library café was quiet at this time of day, the other students all either in class or still in bed. As Raivis turned back to his book, Eiki pulled the paper from his pocket and flattened it out on the desk. University newspaper, huh. He hadn’t even known they had one. What kind of articles would it even have? 

Well, this was the university library. If he could find a copy anywhere, it was here. Knowing his luck, only two students in the whole city bothered to read it. He eyed his coffee. He could come back to it later. It'd still be there. 

…But it'd be cold and gross and it wasn't  _ that _ important and it was too early to bother with that shit. Except he really should. If he didn't do it now, there was no way he'd convince himself to do it later. Eiki groaned.

"What's wrong?" Raivis looked half-relieved to be torn away from his book again.  _ Makes sense. He's been complaining about it all week.  _ He closed it with a slam and leant forward, his head on his hands. "Is it an essay or…?" 

"Nah, it's just…" Eiki shook his head. "Leon's brother gave me this and I'm… I guess I don't know where to start." 

As he took the paper, Raivis' eyes lit up. “Oh! Hey, Lucille’s written for them before. Her article was really good, you should see what she did. Maybe she can help you.”

Eiki raised an eyebrow. “You actually read the school newspaper?”

“You don’t?” Raivis gave him a weird look, as if Eiki was the strange one and not him, the world’s biggest nerd. Of course Raivis read the school paper. If he didn’t, no one would. He sipped his coffee, skimming through the advert. “Why would you want to write for it if you don’t think people read it?”

Eiki shrugged. “Practice, I guess.”  _ And money. _ That one was embarrassing to say out loud. Christmas was coming up, and he had his eyes on a new pair of red roller skates for Leon, but they were just that little bit more than he could afford. 

"Makes sense." His eyes flickered to the clock. "I'd guess Lucille's probably not up yet, though." 

"That's because she's sensible, Rai." 

"You're awake."

"Only because you called our phone fifteen times at 6AM until Mads threatened to smash it if I didn't pick up." Eiríkur drained the last of his coffee. "What did she write about?" 

"The feminist movement and her experience as a black woman," Raivis said. "It was really eye-opening, actually. About how people need to fight for all equality, not just the bits that suit them. There's a lot in there like that. It's fascinating." 

Eiki nodded. "She never said! I would've read it if I’d known." Fighting for equality, huh. Now  _ there _ was something he could write about.

"She didn't want to make a big deal of it." Raivis shrugged. That was fair - even if Eiríkur wrote something, there was no way he'd go around telling people. "I have a copy back at my flat, if you want. Or you can probably find it here." 

"Or I could ask her?" Her experience. It was awful to think about. He could hide being gay, even if he didn’t want to. Lucille couldn’t hide the colour of her skin. There wasn’t really anything he could say without sounding patronising, but…  _ God, it must be terrifying _ .

Eiki knew he would never really understand what it was like - he’d never lived it, never would. In the same way, how many people would understand his life? His happiest moments were in sworn secrecy, hidden behind closed doors and furtive glances in empty corridors.

Maybe one day he could love just as freely as anyone else. 

"Are you okay?" Raivis set his mug down, pushing the paper back to him. "You look… spaced out." 

"Just thinking," Eiríkur said. Reading the page more thoroughly, his eyes caught on one line. 

_ Reviews, anecdotes and debates all welcome. Share your story with the city! Photos also appreciated.  _

Now there was an idea. He'd just need Leon's permission. 


	11. Chapter 11

Lukas woke up at home, somehow. If he had to guess, he’d say Alin had carried him in. Arthur would rather die than get street muck into the carpet like that. He still had his clothes on, so that was a bonus. Someone had bandaged his hand, too. Lifting it up, he squinted at the wrapping, his head spinning too much to tell if it was a good job. His sleeve was stained in blood.

God, he was a mess. How long had he been like this? He hadn’t even drunk that much - nothing more than what he usually managed sat at home. Scrambling for the lamp switch, he winced as it flashed on, making the half-dark a little easier to see in. Outside his room, the flat seemed quiet. Lukas surveyed his sorry state and sighed. 

Making it to the bathroom unseen was the least of his worries. The face reflected in the bathroom mirror was red and puffy, swollen by tears he didn’t remember crying. His acne was coming back across his temples and his lips were chapped and sore. Dark bags shadowed his bloodshot eyes - or was that eyeliner? He couldn’t tell at this point. Probably both. When was the last time he’d shaved?  _ Who fucking cares, not like there’s a point anyway. _ All he felt as he stared at his own distorted appearance was a debilitating sense of disgust. He didn’t deserve to look any better, didn’t deserve the outside world’s care or attention. At most, he deserved to stay in this bathroom forever until his body gave out and he dissolved into the tiles.

A knock at the door pulled him from his slump and he shuffled over to unlock it. Sure, Alin could have the bathroom now. Wasn’t like he deserved his sanctuary.

Instead, Lukas retreated back to his bedroom. The door closed behind him with an unexpected slam. The whole room shook, papers flying off the shelf, a photo falling from his bedside table. He picked it up.

From inside the frame, Astrid looked up at him, her classic half-smile plastered on her face as she showed off her new design book. Across from her, Mads practically shone as he beamed up at the camera, still bent over a sketchpad, pen in hand. That was the day he finished his first proper flipbook, Lukas remembered. He’d been so proud of it.

And then his eyes fell on the person between them, crouched over a D&D figure, carefully painting it in purple and silver. The face that frowned down at those tiny details looked so foreign, so unfamiliar. Alien, almost. 

Lukas sighed and put the photo back on the shelf. That was the boy Astrid had fallen in love with. The one she deserved. Not this… mess that didn’t even love her back. How many times had he lied to her, just because he was too much of a coward to admit how he really felt? Even when he did, it was only a half-truth, a vague implication, no real follow-through. She deserved better. She deserved closure.

Well, that was one thing he could fix.

\---

Skimming through the last issue of the university newspaper, Eiríkur smiled to himself. Notes and papers covered the kitchen table, a pile of old articles - for inspiration - shoved off to the side. Maybe he could understand why Raivis read it, after all. It wasn’t that bad. Sort of a cross between your generic teen magazine and an academic journal. If that made any sense. Like, essays, but casual.

He could see it all mapped out in front of him now: the story, the statistics, the message. With Hiau Sun’s photos, it’d be a masterpiece. If… Leon was okay with her taking them. 

He hadn’t even asked either of them yet. His eyes slid to the clock, the second hand ticking away at a snail’s pace. Leon first. It was just as much his story as it was Eiki’s. He could still do it without Hiau Sun, but Leon was an integral part. What if he said no? Not publishing his story wouldn’t be the end of the world, but… if even one more person could read it and grow to be more accepting of the world around them, that was worth it, right?

A knock at the door made him look up. Gathering his nerves, he walked over to it, his hand hovering above the handle. Hesitating. Another knock, and he slowly pushed it down. It was just Leon. He’d be fine with it. He’d always been open about stuff like this. So why were his hands shaking?

The door swung open. Eiki took a deep breath.

“Hey,” Leon said. He held out a bag of liquorice. “What’s this project, then?”

His grin was reassuring, at least. Eiríkur took the liquorice - salted salmiakki, his favourite - and smiled, willing himself to stop shaking. As Leon swung an arm around his shoulder, he finally managed to calm down.

“It’s uh… oh shit, forgot to close the door.” For some reason, he couldn’t make himself say it. He turned away, making a show of pushing the door closed. He never usually locked it when he was in. Even after the click of the lock, he stood there for a few seconds, trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s… an article.”

“Oh, right.” Frowning, Leon wandered toward the table. 

Eiki froze. He should’ve asked before he started planning, what if Leon saw his notes and got weirded out? God, he was an idiot. What if-

“What sort of article?”

No. It was going to go just like he planned. It had to. “About us,” he said. “It can be anonymous. It’s for the student newspaper and I just thought…”

Leon’s eyes widened, his grin coming back. “You wanted to share our story. Aw, that’s sweet.” He laughed, fingers skimming over the scattered papers. “Teach the world there’s more to life than just what they’ve lived, I guess. It’d do them good.”

“So you like it?”

"I love it." 

Well, that was a relief. Eiki smiled, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Want to help?" 

Clasping Eiki's hand in his, Leon nodded. "Gotta make sure you're making me hot enough." 

"Yeah, right." 

"What's that meant to mean? What're you saying about me,  _ sir _ ?" He poked Eiki playfully. His act of indignation couldn't hide his laughter. "Do you not think I'm attractive?" 

"You're very attractive," Eiki said, and Leon grinned. "As if I'd undersell you, jeez."

"Love you," Leon said, still smug. 

"Love you too," Eiríkur sighed. "Now, do you think this should go before or after our first date?" 

\---

Astrid answered the door on the first knock. From her long navy coat, Lukas guessed she'd either just got in or was just on her way out. Considering it was still pretty early, he assumed the latter. 

"Sorry. I can come back later if you want." 

She shook her head. "I'm only going to get milk. Walk with me." 

Silence was normal. Neither of them were particularly talkative; since they were kids, most of their happiest interactions had been long afternoons spent in a comfortable quiet. No pressure to talk. 

This wasn't like that. For a start, the silence had points. Awful, needling points that made Lukas huddle himself up inside his jacket. He shivered. 

"You're going to give me an answer, I take it." 

Lukas looked up. An answer to what? 

"You said you were sorry. What about?" Astrid didn't look at him. Suddenly, they both found the shelves of milk a lot more interesting than normal. 

"About… us," he said. It wasn't an explanation, not really, but it was the best he could manage without breaking down in the middle of the dairy aisle. "It's… hard to explain. For me." 

"You don't have to if you're not ready," Astrid said. Though her eyes were still fixed on the shelf, she smiled softly, reaching out to take his hand. "It's okay. We're still friends. I'll always be here for you, even if you can't tell me what it is exactly that's bothering you. I just want to know if-" 

Lukas felt guilty the moment he cut her off. "Maybe this would be better over coffee." His voice shook, his hand shaking in Astrid's. Better to say it somewhere less public, just in case. She didn't need to know the whole story. All he needed to do was keep up the nerve to break it off. Properly. 

"Coffee," Astrid echoed. "We can do that." 

"We don't have to if you don't want to. I'm fine just walking. It's just…" 

"Not over groceries." A smile crept across Asti's face, a faint hint of laughter. "That's fair enough." 

She pulled her card out and paid while Lukas picked up the bag. The silence snuck back, following them as they made their way across the car park and along the street. Inside his coat, Lukas shrunk back again. His stomach was tying itself in knots. 

With a sigh, Astrid stopped. "Come on, then. What's eating you?" 

Lukas stammered. He stopped beside her, his heart racing. “I-”

"What's going on? With us." She turned around to look at him, her face pressed into a frown, her voice sterner than he'd ever heard it. "It's okay if you can't tell me the whole story, but I need to know where I stand." 

Eyeing the street, Lukas silently prayed that a car would come out of nowhere and run him down. His hands were shaking and he wanted nothing more than to run, to get away from it all, away from the crushing shame, the knowledge of the people he was always letting down. 

No. He had to stay. For Astrid's sake, not his. She deserved an answer. 

“I’m sorry,” Lukas said.

“I know.” Her smile seemed forced, almost pitiful. “But you never said why.”

“I… You deserve better.” 

“Than what?”

“Than me.” The words were sticking in his throat, but he had to get them out. “You deserve someone that can love you properly. In the way you want.”

Letting out a sigh, Astrid stared at the ground. Her glasses slid down her nose. She didn’t try to push them back. “You’re breaking up with me, then.”

No matter how much he'd planned it and expected it, hearing the words out loud still shook him. Lukas looked away. The handle of the shopping bag slipped in his hands. Was she upset? Angry? He couldn't tell, couldn't read her expression. He'd let her down, he knew that much. Always a disappointment. 

When Astrid looked up, tears pricking in her eyes, he almost ran again, almost turned and left the lie standing, almost told himself he could live with it forever as long as she didn't cry. Astrid wasn't a crier. 

Instead, just three words. 

"I guess so." 

He expected more tears, maybe. Anger. Some scathing, bitter comment he could use to tell himself that this was okay, this was fair. It never came. 

Astrid smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes as she took a step forward and threw her arms around him. 

"I'm sorry." His hands grasped at nothing, coming to rest on Asti's shoulders. To be honest, Lukas couldn't tell if the tears on his face were hers or his. He searched for the right words, the perfect explanation, but everything came up blank. 

"Don't be," Astrid said. She took a step back. "If this is what'll help you be happy. I'm proud you could tell me." 

"What about you, though?" Lukas' eyebrows furrowed as he scanned her face, still not understanding. 

Asti shrugged. "I figured this was coming. I'll be okay. I promise. What's important is you. As long as you're happy." 

Lukas lowered his head, tears still running down his cheeks. "I… thank you." 

Picking up the shopping bag from the floor, Astrid smiled again, soft and sad. "Don't worry so much, fairy." 

Despite himself, Lukas laughed at the nickname. "Ok, you've ruined it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Been doing a lot with the holidays and all that lol honestly I can't even remember what this chapter is about  
> Thank you all for your patience :))


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